Sympathy for the Devil (part one)
by Lamech
Summary: When a stranger asks the trio for their help to find a murderer is she all that she seems?
1. strange weather

Angel the series belongs to and was created by the great Joss Whedon. I'm just a humble writer, barely surviving on Ramen and Pixie Stix. 

Bonus Note-This story will be told in several, and I do mean several, parts. Think of it as watching the show and the waiting between the parts are the commercials. 

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SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

(part one)

By Lamech 

_Another Tuesday, another dozen doughnuts. _Wesley stared at the brief line ahead of him as he waited patiently in the bakery. It was the same thing he had done last Tuesday and the Tuesday before that one. The day had rolled around and it was his turned to get the morning doughnuts for the office. Half glazed, a quarter with sprinkles and a quarter jelly with cherry filling.

_How long have I been doing this? Weeks? Months? Or has it even been years?_ Wesley knew it could not have been years but time still made him feel that way. He folded his arms as he looked at his feet. _How long has it been since I arrived to America? _He couldn't remember. All he could recall was that the endless rows of palm trees; the slew of bleached plastic blondes and that God-awful Californian accent that everyone talked in had always been there. He tried to remember about his ex-flat back home in Britain. _Yes. I remember it very well. Drafty, cramped and old, but it had a lovely view into the streets. Green grocers and merchants would always line those kerbs from dusk to dawn. And I could simply walk down there and purchase an apple without worrying whether or not had it been organically grown or been picked by almost slave labour migrant workers. An apple was just an apple. _

The young man sighed. Would he ever see home again? He wondered if he pawned all of his possessions would he have enough money to get a ticket back home. Probably not. And even if he did what was waiting for him there? He couldn't rely on his family forever. No, he would probably wind up staying in an even smaller flat than the one he had before and on the dole. 

He thanked God that he had Angel and Cordelia to keep him company. In many ways they made life in L. A. bearable. _And at least basic television is free here. Even if PBS only shows just the reruns of "Neighbours."_

"'Morning, Wes," the girl behind the counter chimed when it came to Wesley's turn to order. She smiled and pulled the few stray strands of red hair away from her eyes. The nametag on her shirt read "Sally". "Will it be your Tuesday ritual, again?"

Wesley smiled back. "Yes, please. But today I also would like for you to throw in one of those chocolate chip biscuits as well," he said as he pointed at a plate of wrapped deserts. 

"Chocolate chip biscuits? Now, Welsey, what did I tell you about using British words in my American bakery?" The girl smirked as she folded her arms. 

Rolling his eyes, Wesley sighed. "Please don't make me say _it_." 

"C'mon," Sally cooed as she waved her hands as if trying to draw out the word from within the man. "You're in the U.S.. And you have to use U.S. terms. Just say it. Coo-coo-…"

Wesley rolled his eyes and grunted. "Fine. Would you please also throw in one of those chocolate chip…(sigh)…cookies as well." 

The girl grabbed a huge cookie off the platter and tossed it in a cardboard pastry box. "Done and done. Now that wasn't brain surgery, was it?"

The young man answered Sally with another grunt. "I honestly don't see how a grown man can say the word "cookie" and not feel like a three year old again." 

Grabbing a sheet of wax paper, Sally turned her attention to the rows of doughnuts that lined the shelves behind her. "You're such a Brit, Wes."

"So you are British," a voice spoke from behind the young man.

Wesley turned around and found that he was standing face to face with one of the most angelic faces he had ever seen. A young woman with olive skin and light brown hair stared sincerely into his eyes. The scent of paprika and vanilla poured off her skin and lofted around Wesley's head. He couldn't help but take it in. 

The woman blushed. "Oh, I hope I wasn't being rude."

Wesley noted that she rolled her R's. _And she has a rather thick accent. Eastern European? Hungarian? Turkish? What ever it is, it's lovely. _He felt himself return her blush with one of his own. His hands dug deep into his pockets. "No. No. Uhm…you weren't being rude at all."

"Thank you very much," the woman smiled as the fingers of her right hand glided up to her hair and began to fidget with a couple of strands. Her light green eyes scanned the floor. "It is just I've been in America for about a month and you are the first non-American I've met. It's nice to meet someone from back home as well."

Wesley shifted his weight from one foot to another. He was fidgeting as well. "Yes, back home." His mind was scrambling for clever things to say. All that he could come up with was, "So…" _I swear, Cordelia is right, I am an idiot sometimes. _

"So," the women said as she continued Wesley's sentence, "Which part of Britain are you from? You sound like a cross between a Londoner and someone from Manchester." 

"Ha. You are correct on both parts. I lived in Manchester for half of my life and in London for the other half. Well, up to now." He looked around the bakery. _Now I'm stuck in this lovely little cesspool that the locals jokingly call "The City of Angels."_ "And how about yourself? I believe that is an Eastern European accent, correct? Hungarian, maybe?"

"From Budapest. Very good."

There was a brief pause. Wesley licked his lips and looked back at Sally. _What is taking so bloody long? _The girl was picking up a glazed doughnut with a pair of tongs in slow motion. She glared at the young man and motioned at the woman next to him. She mouthed something.

Wesley shrugged his shoulders. He didn't understand why she was going so slow and what she was mouthing. 

The girl rolled her eyes and whispered, "Name. Ask name."

The young man's mouth formed a large "o" as he nodded. Sally was playing cupid. 

_Lovely.  
_

"Uhm," Wesley began as he turned back to the woman. He forced a hand out from his pocket and stuck it out before him. He hoped that it wasn't sweaty from his nervousness. "My name is Wesley. Wesley Wyndhm-Price. Nice to meet you."

The woman took it. "Anna Borsos. And it is nice to meet you too." She smiled again.

__

Good Lord, her smile just brightens up her whole face. Wesley rubbed the back of his neck. He felt like he was a first year student in Secondary school again. Just fresh off the boat and meeting all the co-eds. He remembered that he acted like a fool back then when it came to women as well. 

"Wesley's a private eye!" chirped Sally as she placed the doughnut box on the counter top. 

Wesley swung around and glared at the girl as if to say _butt out. _Sally smirked. She all but ignored his grimace. "He does all sorts of cases. Kidnappings, black mailing, spying…like I said all sorts. Go on, Wes; show her your business card. It's really cool. It has this drawing on it. It's supposed to be an angel but I thought it was some sort of fancy writing at first. Still it's cool."

Closing his eyes, Wesley wished that he could be anywhere but there. If and when his cheeks stopped burning he was going to seriously scold Sally. 

"I'm looking for someone."  


Thoughts of boxing Sally's ears suddenly vanished from Wesley's head. Eyes snapped open. The woman before him was no longer smiling. In fact her whole small frame drooped from her bird like shoulders. Her eyes were cast down. Her hands were rubbing each other until they were red. The woman's entire stance screamed of helplessness. 

Wesley felt his hands gently stroke her shoulders. He didn't remember putting them there but it felt like the right thing to do. "Who are you looking for?"

"A monster." She dropped her head even lower. "But you wouldn't believe me even if I told you the truth. No one believes me."

A sincere smile graced the young man's face. "Trust me," he hummed in his soft accent, "There are very few things that I don't believe now a days."

Anna looked up. A hint of tears misted up her green eyes. 

"I can help." 

Anna smiled as if she had heard that sentence before repeated in different voices. "Very well, Wesley." Her brow scrunched up as she fought to muster up the courage to continue. "I am looking for the man who murdered my husband. Only…this killer is not human. He is a vampire."

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Angel wandered into the office from his apartment. His skin was still not quite dry from his morning shower and it was making his black shirt a bit damp. The scent of Irish Spring soap covered his flesh. He liked the aroma of it but in no way did it smell like the water in Ireland. Doyle used to joke that the springs in Ireland all smelled like Guinness. _Wishful thinking,_ Angel thought. God, he missed Doyle. 

The vampire wandered over to the Mr. Coffee. He didn't even notice Cordelia sitting on her desk with her arms folded tightly across his chest. But then he didn't notice much without his morning cup of coffee. Carefully he poured the hot liquid into a paper cup, added the cream and sugar and smelled it. Usually just the odor of the drink was enough to awaken his sense but today the coffee had an odd scent to it. _Probably the coffee filter. Wesley has yet to make a bad pot. _

Turning around and leaning against the file cabinet, it was then that Angel noticed Cordelia. She was glaring at the entrance as if she was trying to open it with her mind.

The corners of her mouth were pushed down in a way that Angel knew she was ticked for one reason or another. _What ever it is I know better not to stick my nose in it. I didn't survive over two hundred years by being stupid. _He sipped his drink.

A split second later he spat it out. 

"Gee-zus!" he hissed in between chokes. He had never tasted anything so foul in his life. Holding the cup out as if it were a bomb, he searched for the trash can. When he found it, in went the cup with drink and all. Quickly he looked for something to take away the horrid taste that coated his tongue. _Doughnuts. Sugary doughnuts. _The pastries were no where to be found.

__

What was going on here?

"Wesley?" Angel called out as he took another cup, filled it with water and swigged it down. No one answered. "Wes!"

"He's not here," answered Cordelia without inching from her spot.

Another cup of water went down. The taste was slowly dissolving. The vampire filled up the cup for the third time. "Where is he then?"

The young woman shrugged her shoulders. "You're guess is as good as mine."

"He didn't come in?"

Cordelia shook her head. "I tried to call him but he didn't answer and he doesn't have an answering machine. I ask you, who in the twenty-first century does not have an answering machine? What is he? Amish? Really." The woman stood up and began pacing. Her heels clicked as she walked. "And he left no message on the office's machine. No fax. No page. No note. We're talking a big fat goose egg here."

The fourth cup of water went down. The coffee taste was putting up a brave front. "So, I take it you made the coffee."

"Yes and don't you dare start with me, dead boy."

Angel took a step back. He looked at his empty cup and went for his fifth drink. "Cordy," he began as he sipped at the water. "Wesley probably has a good explanation to why he's a little late."

The girl's eyes narrowed as she glared feverishly at the door. She pulled nervously on the edge of her frayed white shirt. "Three hours late."

"Three hours?" Angel realized he had over slept. He wondered if that was what happened to Wesley as well. Most likely. He crumpled up the paper cup and tossed it away. Then, gingerly, he sat next to the girl and gazed at the door. "He probably over slept. It happens. Or maybe he is stuck in traffic. You know how it is around here. One accident on the freeway can cost you your entire day."

The girl's eyes traveled up to his. She let out a disgusted, _"hmmp," _as if to point out how clueless the vampire really was. 

Rolling his eyes, the vampire threw his hands in the air, "It's Wesley, Cordelia! Just Wesley. What could go wrong?"

"Oh, I don't know-" the girl began. By the tone of voice she was using Angel knew he was about to get an earful. "Maybe you are right. What could go wrong with a man who used to be the Watcher for not one but two, count them, two Slayers. Then later on turns into a demon hunter, himself. And now works with a vampire that has been known to do a little slaying, himself. Not to mention is also on the hit list of the city's and possibly the country's most powerful law firm who, themselves, have been known to kill in order to make sure that their cases are won." She looked at the vampire with a deadpan stare, "Gee, Angel, maybe you're right. What possible trouble could Wesley be in?"

Angel stared at the floor for a moment as Cordelia's words sunk in like a lead weight. He hopped off the desk. "The tunnels to his place are under construction. We're going to have to take the car there." He walked over to the file cabinet, opened it and retrieved the Plymouth's keys. "You have to drive. Can you manage stick?" He tossed the girl the keys.

Cordelia caught them. "No, but I'm a fast learner." She went around her desk and started to straighten out things.

Angel headed back to the elevator. "You close shop while I get my coat."

"Will do."

Suddenly Angel froze. Cordelia asked what was the matter only to be hushed by the vampire. She listened closely and caught a faint sound. Talking. Two people talking. 

One of them was male and the other was female. 

"Wesley," whispered Angel. 

The woman nodded. Going around the desk she went back to her sitting spot. The voices were becoming louder and talking was being interrupted by laughter. Wesley was okay. Half of Cordelia was relieved and the other half wanted to strangle the living snot out of him for nearly scaring her out of her skin. She folded her arms and scowled, "Oh, he's in for such a severe glaring."

Angel agreed and followed suit. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Down the hallway Wesley walked with Anna right beside him. "And what did he do next?"

"He flipped the guard off," Anna laughed as she stopped at the office door. 

The young man laughed as he took hold of the doorknob. He paused, as he wanted to hear the rest of the story before going in. "And what did the guard do?"

"What could he do? He threw Johnson in the cell along with Cranson brothers."

"He was in with Cranson brothers all night?"

"Actually he was in there with them for three days. Jules didn't return until Sunday."

Wesley leaned against the door as he laughed even harder. "How completely brilliant! And I would wager he never tried to steal wine from that monastery, again."

"And you would win that wager," Anna said as she returned his smile.

Wesley turned the knob, "Well, we're here. You are going to really like Angel and Cordelia. They are really good people."

"If they're anything like you I like them already."

Welsey turned away to hide his blush. He walked into the office and held the door for the woman. She followed him in and spotted the couple sitting on the desk. "Oh. You must be Angel and Cordelia."

Wesley looked up; "Yes-" He took one look at their faces and cringed. _Oh. Bloody. Hell. I'm dead. _Forcing a smile he continued his introductions. "This is Angel and Cordelia. " Quickly he walked around Anna and stood next to the two. The girl and the vampire were still coldly staring at him. "Angel, Cordy, this is Ms. Anna Borsos."

Codelia held her icy stare at Wesley for a moment and then turned to the woman. Instantly her face lit up with the warmest smile Welsey had ever seen. She put her hand out for Anna to shake. The woman took it.

Cordelia then switched her attention to Wesley all the while still smiling. "Tell me, Wesley, where have you been? Angel and I were getting a bit worried." As sweet as her face was, the young man could feel the venom in her voice.

The young man suddenly produced a box of doughnuts. "I went to the bakery. There's a chocolate chip biscuit in there for you, Cordelia."

The girl took the box, lifted the lid and retrieved the cookie. She then shoved the box into Angel's direction. He rummaged through it, pulled out a glazed and settled the box behind him. His face still held a sour scowl. 

Wesley let out a nervous cough as he walked behind Anna. "I met Anna there."

"Yes," Anna said as she looked in Angel's direction. "Wesley told me you can help me. That you are a detective."

The vampire looked up from his untouched doughnut. "You're from Hungary."

"Yes, I'm from Budapest. Have you ever been there? Wesley was telling me that you have traveled throughout the world."

"Well, hasn't Wes been the chatty Cathy," Cordelia snapped as she tore a hunk of cookie off and stuffed it into her mouth.

Wesley returned the comment with a dirty look. Angel rolled his eyes. The two of them were starting the fighting sibling act again. It was his turn to take control.

"I have been to Budapest but that was a long time ago." Visions of drunken nights with Darla at his side danced through his head. He pushed them back. "Wesley said you needed our help?"

Wesley pulled a chair for Anna and himself. The woman settled in as Wesley went to the Mr. Coffee. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sipped it. A moment later the half-swallowed coffee was all over the place in a quick choke. He coughed as he turned away from the others and took a cup of water. Turning back around Angel was right there shaking the box of doughnuts out in front of him. The young man smiled weakly and picked up a glazed. He sat at Anna's side and took a small bite from the pastry. 

Angel continued without missing a beat, "What is it do you want us to do?"

"Uhm," she said as she gazed in the vampire's eyes. Her own narrowed as if she was trying to look past him rather than at him. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes. "Wesley told me you handled unusual cases."

Cordelia piped up, "How unusual are we talking about? Missing children? Stalkers?"

"I'm looking for a vampire."  
  
"That's us."  


Anna gazed up at Angel. Her green eyes narrowed with the same distant gaze. "This vampire killed my husband. And he didn't do it out of hunger he did for sport. Ever since that night I've been searching for that monster so I can have my revenge. Unfortunately, I only got a glimpse of him and I have no name. For years I've been grasping at straws and hitting dead ends. But through God's wonders I've managed to track him to here, Los Angeles. My problem is this is a large city and I feel that if I don't act quickly I could lose him again. Please help me. Wesley told me that you know the city like your own skin and that you have connections with everyone. Again, please, I need to find him."

Angel placed the doughnut that was in his hand back in the box. Suddenly he didn't feel like having anything sugary. "And what will you do with him once you find him?"

"Kill him."  


The room became silent. No one knew what to say to next. Cordelia stared at her cookie with a blank face and took another huge bite from it. Wesley looked towards Angel's direction. He already knew what his answer was but wanted to hear the vampire's before he said anything. Angel let out a sigh, "Alright, Ms. Borsos. Tell me what you have."

Cordelia hopped off the desk and scurried around to her paperwork. They had a new client. The good news was they were finally going to be able to get some bills paid. The bad news was it was more paperwork for her. 

Anna rose to her feet and took hold of Angel's cold hand. Her eyes were misting up. "Thank you, Angel. And, please, call me Anna."

________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

  
What Anna had was not much. 

She had witnessed the whole messy act of murder but it had happened so fast that the details were blurry. She was to meet her husband, Peter, at a restaurant_. _When she turned around a street corner that was on her path, she found herself looking down an alleyway. At the end she saw Peter and a vampire. Her husband was in his arms, dead. She could see that his throat had been clearly slashed. Blood was smeared on the vampire's face. Another vampire came up to him telling that they had to leave now because the constables were coming. And they were gone. They had taken her husband's body along with them. Three days later Peter's body had been found propped up in a church as if he was praying. An amusing little joke on the vampire's behalf. 

The local administration made Anna behead her husband and bury him at the edge of the city at the crossroads. He wasn't allowed to get a proper burial. The church declared his soul damned and there was not anything they could do about it. 

And ever since then she has been on the hunt. She felt, no, _she knew_ that if she killed the vampire that murdered her husband, Peter's soul would be saved. 

Angel sat in a chair from across the woman. He was sketching a composite of the vampire. He was European by his accent. Most likely from Great Britain. Anna's English was a little vague back then but she recognized the language the two were speaking and could somewhat understand what they were saying. He was tall and on the youngish side. Not a child but not quite in the age of full manhood. 

Angel smudged the pencil drawn lines with the tips of his fingers. "Hair and eyes?"

Anna paused. "His eyes were yellow. Like an animal's. But his hair was…. blonde." She looked at Angel as she said this. Her eyes gazed along his hairline. "And it was long. He had a ponytail."

"A ponytail?" Cordelia sneered as she looked up from her paperwork. "Great a yuppie wannabe vampire." She went back to her work. 

Wesley was next to her working on the computer. He had been cross-referring with past police bulletins to see if the vampire had left a trail of bodies. But Anna doubted there would be. 

The day waned on. Anna was right. There were no recent murders or even reported attacks that had smelled of vampirism. Tired and frustrated with his futile results, Wesley took a break and ordered Chinese for everyone though Angel said he was not hungry. He had spent most of the day on the phone calling every two-bit hustler that owed him a favor. Still the trail was cold. 

Angel didn't understand it. Everyone left tracks behind, even ghosts. How come he couldn't find a thing about the vampire that fit Anna's description? A feeling of uneasiness was clawing at Angel's gut. There was something amiss here. But what could it be. _Could Anna be lying about the whole thing?_ That thought came out of no where and almost shocked him. Why would she lie? Why would anyone lie about something as horrible as that?

Angel scratched his forehead and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked up at the woman who was eating the Chinese leftovers with Wesley. She didn't look like she was hiding anything. _But you know very well that nothing is as what it seems. _Wesley laughed and then Anna laughed. Angel could hear them talk about British politics. Tony Blair on paternity leave or something on the lines like that. Angel scrunched up his brow in confusion. 

"Look at them," whispered Cordelia as she settled a pile of paperwork in front of the vampire. "Talk about a flirt fest. They're gabbing all about Manchester United or some football group. I didn't even know England had a football team. Can you just see it? Pig skins and crumpets." She took a seat next to Angel while a grin played on her face.

Angel smirked. "Football is what they call soccer over there." 

"Oh." The girl paused and then snorted. "Then why don't they just call it soccer? It's very confusing to me. _Europeans_." She patted Angel's arm. "Say, Angel, you're European. Maybe you can tell me what the whole deal is?"

The vampire sighed as he watched the couple from across the room. Their accents played around in his ears. The way they moved with their hands reminded him of the merchants from the mainland from when he worked in his father's shop. Very expressive. Very loud. A telltale sign that they were not American. Even the color of their skin gave them away. Their skin was washed out. The two of them were pale, even Anna with her olive tint. Americans glowed. _Probably from all the vitamins that they pump into their food and the chemicals they slap onto their faces._ Angel knew that if he were alive his skin would probably have that American look to it. 

He sighed. "Cordelia, last time I was in Europe for more than three months, neither world wars had even begun, women didn't have the right to vote here and the Wright Brothers were still a couple of years away from taking their historical flight." 

"Thank you, grandpa." 

Angel raised his eyes brows. To which Cordelia sighed and murmured how her jokes were always lost on him. She picked up her purse. "It's a quarter to eight. Can we call it a day, Angel? If I have to phone one more guy named Joey or Sal in order to get some inside information, I swear, I'm going to scream." 

Looking at his watch, Angel wondered where the day went. He nodded. It was time to call it quits for now. His mind was tired and he wanted to do a little investigating on his own. _I want to see what I can find about Anna._ He called out to Wesley who was lost in his own little world that contained him and Anna. The woman gingerly brushed the young man's arm to make him realize that Angel was calling out to him. 

"Wes, it's almost eight. I think we're finished for today. Looks like nothing else is going to turn up for a while."

Anna looked at her watch. Her eyes grew. "Oh, my, I didn't even realize the time. Here I am enjoying Wesley's and everyone else's presence so much so that I didn't even notice that the day has disappeared." She arose to her feet as Wesley handed her purse to her. "I know we haven't found much in the way of information today but I feel that I am just right around the corner. I know it." She stuck out her hand to which Angel took it. Her flesh was so warm. "Again, thank you for everything." 

Angel nodded rather than say, "welcome." He was still uneasy. Especially the way Anna looked at him. It was still as if she was looking through a window. Never in his life had he wanted anyone out of his sight without a valid reason. The urge to yell was growing in him like a virus. "Uhm," he stammered as he looked at Wesley and Cordelia, "I want you guys to come in around…nine. Ok?"

With confused eyes, Cordelia just gazed at the vampire. Angel was upset about something. But what? She shrugged. Work was over. She was tired. Plus Angel was always upset about one thing or another. Nothing was new there. "Sure."

Wesley's eyes were still on Anna. He nodded. He wasn't really sure what Angel had asked but was pretty sure that a nod would please the vampire. "Anna, I gave you a ride this morning to here. Would it be too foreword of me to give you another ride to your hotel?"

Smiling the woman reached over and took Wesley by the arm. "Wesley. I was about to ask you if you could give me a ride. I was never quite good at finding my way around by bus even back home." 

The two of them walked out of the office without saying good-bye to the others. Deep in a discussion about the latest episodes of "Neighbours", they were oblivious to the two other beings that were Angel and Cordelia. The girl and the vampire stood in the dark. Wesley had hit the lights as he left. Something he did every night on his way out. 

Cordelia pressed her tongue against the lining of her cheek. She didn't find any of what had just happen amusing.

"Europeans," she groaned. 

  


________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Wesley had pulled his bike to the side of the hotel. The place was not all that ritzy. It was one of those tourist type hotels that would stuff Bibles into the dresser drawers and nail everything in the room down. Still it was nice place to rest your head. 

Anna climbed off the bike. She commented on how that was the fastest she had ever gone in her life. She smiled and thanked the young man for the thrill. 

"Would you like me to pick you up in the morning?" Wesley said as the two of them started to walk towards the entrance. 

"Would you really?" Anna said softly, hardly believing the generosity of the young man. "It is not a bother for you?"

"Not even in the slightest."  


The two of them stood in silence. Neither of them was sure of what to say next. Wesley could feel his heart in his throat. He was wondering what he was doing. Why was he being so forward? He looked at Anna. _Those green eyes. Like the forest behind my old house. Like home. _He suddenly found himself taking a step back as a new train of thought raced through his mind. _She's a client, Wesley. And when she done with the vampire business she will be gone. You best remember that. _

"Wesley."  


The man shivered out of shock. He blinked. "Huh?" He focused to see Anna gawking at something behind him. Her face was twisted in horror. All color had vanished from her skin. "Anna?"

"That man…" she breathed taking Wesley's right arm and holding it tightly. 

Wesley looked over his shoulder to see a man nuzzling at the neck of a woman. By the way she was dressed with a fake leather mini skirt, filthy halter-top and five-dollar heels, Wesley guessed she was a hooker and the man was her John. But in the manner he was kissing her _on the throat_, it was coming across as too forceful to be a trick. The hooker's mouth was opening and closing with a jerky motion. She looked like a bass. A screaming fish. Her hands were curled up into fists so tight that her knuckles were white. The man had them tightly pinned to her sides. Wesley could tell that the woman wanted to move. Her whole body was jerking slightly like the way a human's does when pain becomes too unbearable. 

The skin on Wesley's arms began to crawl. He pushed Anna back, "Hide."

The woman pulled on Wesley's arm, "No. Don't. You'll get yourself killed."

Dragging the woman behind a parked car, the young man hushed Anna. "I can't just ignore it." Anna was still holding tightly onto his arm. Her face had become soft like that of a scared child. Her eyes were on the borderline of crying. Wesley uncurled each of her slim, warm fingers from his sleeve. "I've done this before, Anna. I know what I'm doing."

The woman sunk to her feet as Wesley looked over his shoulder again. The hooker and the "John" were still there. A twisted thought played in the young man's mind. _Look on the bright side, Wesley. Maybe it's not a vampire after all. Maybe it's just a common psychopath. _

Quickly from the saddlebag that was on his bike, he withdrew a stake and a vile of holy water. Cordelia told him once to always have them at hand just in case. _Clever girl. _He looked back at Anna who was still hiding behind the car. Her eyes were as big as saucers as she watched the young man storm down the street.

"Hey!" Wesley yelled at the John. 

The man looked up. Wesley winced.

_No, definitely not a psychopath. _

The vampire dropped the hooker. Her body hit the dirty pavement and didn't move. Tensing his body like a cobra ready to strike, the vampire stood his ground. With a quick swing of his arm, Wesley sprayed the creature with all the water that was in the vile. The creature gasped out of shock as the liquid made his skin bubble and boil. The smell of cooked meat rose in the air. Wesley raised the stake in his hand above his head as the vampire tried to regain his senses. He looked up at the man before him, the man with the stake ready in his right hand and wailed. The ear piercing howl struck Wesley's head like a spear. He almost dropped the stake in order to cover up his ears. He looked back at the vampire just in time to see the creature run around the corner. The young man took foot. But as fast as he ran he realized that it was a waste of precious energy. The vampire was gone. He had screamed like a scared little girl and slipped Wesley's grasp because of this. 

The young man groaned. He knew exactly what Cordelia was going to say to him when she found out. _Pathetic. _

A minute passed when he realized that Anna was still waiting for him to return. Wesley sucked some air into his lungs and began to run back. He hoped she had not been too frightened. Anna was no longer hiding behind the rust worn beetle. Instead, she was on her knees before the hooker with her fingers gingerly brushing the girl's face. From a distance Wesley could see tear tracks on Anna's cheeks. He slowed down.

"Anna." He walked up to the woman and the girl. 

The hooker's body was limp and her head hung to one side. The gash on her neck was already collecting flies. The woman swatted them away with a disgusted bat of the hand. It was only now that Wesley could see the girl's face. Soft and baby like. She couldn't have been a year or two older than Cordelia. Her eyes were still open with a gaze that was vacant and long. Gingerly, Anna closed them and crossed herself. Wesley paused at the religious gesture and crossed himself as well. Something he had not done in years. 

"We should call the police," Wesley whispered as he offered his hand to the woman.

Anna took it and rose to her feet. She had not heard a word the young man had said. Staring at the street behind Wesley, she grabbed his sleeve once more and held it tight. Her eyes were already beginning to tear up again and her body shook like a leaf. 

"Wesley. That vampire. _That was him._"

END OF PART ONE

__


	2. The Honeymoon is Over

Angel the series was created and is owned by Joss Whedon. Me? I'm just one of your run of the mill hack writers. Enjoy.

SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL 

(part two) 

by Lamech

"So, let me get this straight. Because the vampire screamed like a little sissy baby, you let him escape? **_PATHETIC!"_**

Cordelia was pacing around the office in her pajamas. Charming blue sheep decorated the fabric. Angel wanted to make a comment on them but decided best not to. He had called the girl in the middle of the night and asked her to come back to work. She wasn't happy about that. So much so that she didn't even put on her make-up or get properly dressed. Angel never realized how young Cordelia really was standing there without her make-up while decked in kiddy night gear. She looked kinda cute in a little sister sort of way. 

But as cute as she looked she was laying it on thick on the young British man. He sat on the couch with Cordelia leaning over him and giving him the third degree. Wesley looked like he had gone through war and back. His hands were grabbing at his sleeves and his eyes refused to look up from the floor. The very posture of a man drowning with guilt. He had failed Cordelia, Angel, Anna and most of all he had failed himself. So when Cordelia was slapping him with insults he didn't protest. He deserved it, every one of them. 

Sitting next to him was Anna. She seemed very calm despite the fact that her fingers were fidgeting with her hair and she was ignoring the whipping boy show next to her. Instead she was focused on Angel. 

"He's here, Angel. I saw him with my own two eyes. He's here and now I can do what I must do so that Peter can be at peace." She took Cordelia's hand, which instantly made the girl silent. Gently rubbing Wesley's forearm with her free hand, Anna hummed, "Don't be mad at him, Cordelia." 

The girl looked at how her hand just dwarfed Anna's tiny, fragile hand and then glanced up at the woman. Anna continued, "I didn't want Wesley to kill that monster. I have to do it. And if we found him once, we can find him again."

Cordelia slipped free from the woman's grasp. She leaned against the banister and sighed. She wanted Anna to be just as mad as she was just so she could have someone to share her crankiness with. But, no, Anna had to act rational. She looked at Wesley who was still scanning the floor. _He really is pathetic. But he means well. _She bit her lip. _Wonderful. _ His guilt was rubbing off on her. "Sorry, Wes." 

The young man looked up and nodded. 

Suddenly Angel cleared his throat in order to get everyone's attention. "Anna, we should go now and find him while the trail is still fresh."

"What!?" Cordelia sputtered as she threw her hands in the air, "You expect me to go out into Los Angeles to chase some vampire while dressed like this?" She tugged at her pajamas. "Oh, I don't think so."

"It's very becoming," said the vampire.

"Hell no."

"She has a point," started Wesley as he climbed to his feet. "I doubt that Cordelia could strike fear in even a small child while parading around in teddy bear pajamas."

"Sheep pajamas," the girl corrected.

"Excuse me?"

The girl once again tugged on her outfit in order to give Wesley a closer look. "They're tiny blue sheep. See?"

The young man took off his glasses and nodded. "So, they are. Very cute."

"I know. I saw them at Gadzooks and they were on sale. Such a steal at-"

Angel cleared his throat again. Wesley and Cordelia realized what they were doing and both of them blushed at the same time. Now was not the time to be discussing adorable night gear. There was a vampire out there in the city and a client here that wanted him dead. Quickly they turned their attention to Angel. 

It was Anna who interrupted this time. "We shouldn't go out."

Angel answered this with a confused scowl. 

The woman stood up and folded her arms. "Right now that vampire thinks there is a vampire hunter roaming his grounds. And if he's smart, he's hiding. If we go out with our swords drawn and he sees us, he's going to know that there is someone after him. And I know he will flee the city. He is a coward. Tonight showed me this. I do not want him to flee. However if he waits tonight and nothing else happens, he will probably think that Wesley was a fluke. He will let his guard down and then and only then is when we will strike."

The vampire opened his mouth as if to protest but Anna quickly raised her hand to counter act his silent argument. "Angel, I have waited years for this. You can wait one night."

With a heavy sigh Angel agreed. Cordelia smiled as she clapped her hands. Now that was the end of that she could go back to her apartment and to her comfy, comfy, oh, so, comfy bed. She headed towards the phone in order to call herself a taxi when Angel said something that made her shout out another, "What?!"

She made a note to herself. _Learn a new "I am shocked" phrase. _Dropping the receiver she spun around and stormed over to the vampire. She poked him in the chest. "Repeat that, please."

Angel looked at the finger that was poking him. He took one pace back. "I want Anna to spend the night with you at your place. I feel it's safer this way rather than having her return to her hotel. Just in case the vampire does come back."

Wesley agreed. He stood by Angel's side and gave the girl a pleading look worthy of a puppy dog. "For one night only. Then tomorrow we can find different lodgings for her. But in the pinch we are at the moment, we need you, Cordelia."

With a scowl that could rival Angel's the girl groaned through clenched teeth. She then sighed; remembering how she hung out at Doyle's when she was having trouble. One good turn deserves another. Or was that no good deed goes unpunished? Whatever cliché it was she felt she was living it. _I hope she's not a snorer or else Dennis is going to be ticked. _"Fine. Fine. Fine." She repeated, sounding like she was trying to convince herself. Throwing her hands in the air in disgust she sputtered, "Now can we all get some sleep?" 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

The skin of a vampire has some amazing properties to it. One of which is the ability to rapidly heal itself. Scars and other disfigurements rarely occur even if guns, blades and/or chemicals did the severe damage. 

All of this would be fascinating to the common observer but in Joshua's case he could not care less. His skin was burnt now and at this moment. Sure, in a few hours he would be right as rain with his skin looking like as if it had never been splashed with Holy Water. 

But right now, right at this moment, he was in pain and his skin was sloughing in huge pieces. 

The vampire had never been attacked with Holy Water before. It was an experience he would not tell his grandchildren that is if he had grandchildren. 

His body was shaking as if it was going into shock. Which really puzzled him. He was dead. At least his body was. Why would it be going into shock? Or for that matter why was he feeling any pain at all? Shouldn't his nerve cells be dead? His head was hurting him. He hated the rules and the exceptions that came along with his undead body. He wondered if Dracula ever had these problems. But then he realized that Dracula wasn't real. 

"Joshua!" the girl in front of him screamed. She looked around eleven but was dressed like a hooker. Everything was skin tight and exposing what little cleavage she had. She brushed the black hair of her pageboy hair cut away from her blue eyes. Her voice betrayed a slight Scottish accent that once was strong but had faded with age. In her tiny hands she had a bottle of iodine in one and a slightly iodine soaked washcloth in the other. She slapped the cloth against Joshua's face.

The vampire screamed and fell off the crate that he was using as a chair. The floor was cold and cement hard. He hated living in an abandon warehouse but at least it was a roof over his head. And as long she was there. Without her, his sire, he knew he would be long dead. 

"That hurt," he still hissed. It hurt even more when his face changed from human to demon. His skin was still too frail to switch. He moaned when he went back to human. "Cully," he said to the girl in a faded Scottish accent of his own, "Give me a slice of sympathy here. I didn't ask to be attacked by some raving lunatic with a stake. What is the city coming to nowadays? It's just not safe anymore." He climbed back onto the crate. "I lost the hundred you gave me."

Suddenly the girl's soft face twisted to reveal the demon inside of her. Joshua tensed up; "It wasn't my fault! I ran before I was able to steal the money back from the hooker." With a sigh he began to mutter under his voice, "Not that she was worth it. Her blood may have had heroin in it but it was the cheap kind. I'm not even buzzing, just numb." 

The girl shoved the bottle and the wash cloth into his hands. "Serves you right. You were out in public-"

The vampire put the objects away in his backpack. "I was in an alley way!"

"Still too public for us." She wondered over to the two mattresses that lay bare on the floor. "I, on the other hand, have been working all night. I got us enough money to tie us over for the week. Who knew that there were so many sick perverts in this city? Too bad as soon as I got them in the dark, off went their heads." A twisted giggle escaped from her lips as she sat down on one of the makeshift beds and stretched her skinny frame out. Her eyes glazed over in a hungry dream; "There was this one man. Well, man-cub, really." With a smile she licked her lips. "He was so tasty but he died too soon. Had a heart attack in my arms. Ohhh, I wanted him to last forever. A Spaniard from Madrid with blood that tasted of saffron he was. I love Spanish men, especially for dinner."

"Well, my dinner was horrible and I'm in pain. Is there any powder left?" Joshua asked as he rolled his right sleeve up. Cully was right ahead of him as she pulled out from under mattress a bag of heroin, a syringe, spoon and a lighter that had a Crumb drawing painted on the side of it. The drawing was of a man walking with an absurd stride with the caption, "Keep on truckin'!" written over his head. Cully liked Crumb. She liked anyone who had a life more miserable than her. 

Joshua removed the belt around his waist. The leather was cracked in certain places. It had seen better days but it was still useful. At least for the use the vampire wanted the belt for. The whole ordeal of cooking and shooting the heroin seemed to take forever. But when the high kicked in with the rush of the drug screaming through his veins like a bullet, leaving a cold kiss in it's wake, Joshua felt like it had been worth the wait. He stumbled onto the mattress as Cully cleaned up. She didn't care for drugs except for alcohol. And right now seemed the ideal time to dive into her vice. From the same space where she stashed Joshua's heroin she took out an old bottle of absinthe. Now this wasn't the same absinthe that one could get in quaint little glasses along the outdoor cafes of Prague. Where the poison, the kick that made it truly wonderful to drink, was left out, replaced by a safer more stable herb. No, wormwood crawled in this bottle, always ready to bring madness to those who dared to drink it. 

She took a swig of it. While others would have choked and died on the bitterness of the drink she took its embrace to her tiny chest and still beating heart with the hungry of the monster she was. Another swig went down and burned her throat. She wondered why crack and heroin was easy to find on the street corners of any rundown ghetto but absinthe, the good kind, was next to impossible to get in America. _If they only knew. _The liquid poison swirled around her brain and spoke to her in whispers of paranoid revenge. 

"Joshua," she whispered to the vampire that lied across her flat belly. "This hunter-"

The male vampire's eyes fluttered open to reveal milky white nothingness. He blinked again to show hazel. Reality was fighting hard to grab him. "Yes, sire."

"This hunter may be a problem."

"Of course he's a problem," hissed Joshua. The drug had made him brave. But he still swallowed the spit in his mouth and lowered the tone in his voice. "If he came after me once, he may do it again." His fingers brushed the new skin that was meshing across his face. "And this time he may be able to finish the job." A new thought raced through his head like wild fire. He rolled over on his belly and looked the small girl in the eyes. "He knew what he was doing, Cully. He was prepared. And-and-"

He was stammering. Cully hated when he did that. "Spit it out," she hissed and took another swig of green poison. 

"What if he gets you?" The vampire buried his head in her belly. And for a second he wished she were alive so he could feel her warmth against his cold skin. But in reality it was ice touching ice. "We're not fighters, Cully. We're the crows of the undead. We eat the leftovers of humanity. We, Cully, WE! Not just me. I need you, Cully. If something were to happened to you-. We should leave. We should take our bags now and run. Run while we still have life in us." He paused and added, "Well, you know what I mean." He dropped his head onto her belly once more. 

He felt her tiny hand go through his blonde hair. "Don't worry, child. There is no need to runaway." She said _child_ with a soothing numbness that made him calm. He was her child. Every inch of him. She cupped his face with her hands. "We'll find him before he finds us."

"But-but what will we do? Hand to hand, we'll be slaughtered."

The tiny vampire giggled softly. She arose to her feet and walked over to her bag that rested at the foot of her mattress. It contained all that she needed in the world, including her salvation. "Joshua, you're right. Hand to hand, we would be slaughtered. But that is Old World fighting." She took out a revolver. It looked like a huge monster in her hands. But her very stance told that she could handled it. "We're in America. And we'll do what Americans do when they want to get rid of someone." She slipped a single bullet in the chamber, closed it, pulled back the hammer and fired at the empty wall in front of her. Joshua flinched as the terrifying roar echoed off the metal walls of the warehouse. He turned to the tiny vampire. She was smiling as smoked climbed out of the barrel. It was all so simple. "We'll blow his fucking brains out."

  
  
  
  


END OF PART TWO

  
  
  



	3. hang on to your ego

Angel the series is owned and was created by Joss Whedon. I am here for the free doughnuts. _Doughnuts…mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!!!!!_

Sympathy for the Devil

(part three)

_by Lamech_

****

Fee, fie, foe, fum.

I smell the blood of an Englishman. 

The simple fairy tale verse was running through Wesley's head and refused to be still. He didn't know why it was there or how it came into being but it spooked him completely. And this was the last thing he needed. 

Sitting on his dime store couch with the remote control in his hand, the young man turned the volume of his television set louder. He didn't know why he was bothering to do so. After all he was watching an old Chaplin film. What was expecting? Louder silence? Still it was something to do. Something to occupy his mind. 

The night had been a strange one. Though strange was not the word he wanted to use. But the word he wanted to use had not been invented yet. And even if it did exist it would probably be a word that one would not use in polite society. Hunting demons, vampires to be exact was nothing new to him. He had been fighting for over a year now and with great results. Before that he had been reading and studying about the undead for as long as he could recall. But tonight, that vampire had unnerved him. Wesley had let his guard down for a brief second and the creature had escaped. 

__

But what if he hadn't run? He could have murdered you. 

Murdered. 

His epitaph came into focus.

__

Here lies Wesley Wyndhm-Price.

A coward to the end.

All the confidence that the young man had been building for the past few months with Angel leading him and Cordelia by his side had been destroy in one foolish move. And now that moment was haunting Wesley.

__

What if he ran in order to regroup with others of his kind? What if there are hundreds in his nest? All of them are now getting ready to repay me for the favour that I gave that vampire.

The young man turned the volume even louder. He could now hear the buzzing of the television as it dealt with the still silent movie. Leaning over on his couch he grabbed the phone off of one of the end tables. Wesley had only left Angel's place half an hour ago. Angel had kept the young man behind in order to get a better description of vampire that had attacked the prostitute. 

__

Just half an hour. Perhaps he is still awake. Maybe I should call him and say that I've forgotten to tell him a very important detail about the creature. 

He picked up the receiver and started to dial only to slam the receiver back down. 

__

No. I can't do that. He'd see through that tissue paper lie in a second. He'll realize that I'm scared and I'll look like even a bigger fool then I already am.

But I have to talk to someone. Anyone. 

He thought of Anna. A vision of her smiling at him made his heart race. He wondered if she was still up. If this was so, Anna and him could carry on with their earlier conversation on what was going on in Bosnia. She was such a brilliant woman. The smartest person he had met in America since Giles. The two of them made the young man feel good to be European. And right now he felt he needed to get that feeling again. He lifted the receiver again. And again slammed it down. A vision of Cordelia, complete with a forked tongue and horns jutting out from her temples, scolding him for even thinking about calling her place at such an indecent hour popped into his head. 

__

Best just to leave that viper's nest alone. 

The young man sighed. He needed more friends. A whole bunch of them to swarm around him and fill his mind with thoughts other than vampires, spells and dead bodies. 

Suddenly his stomach growled. Wesley rejoiced. 

__

The diner down the block! I can go to Joe's Dinner and gorge until the sun comes up. I can talk to the waitresses and the cooks. I can have regular conversations about regular topics. 

Logic told him that he didn't have to go to the diner in order to eat. There was plenty of food in the flat for him to appease his hunger. But then logic also told him that there were no such things as ghosts, vampires and monsters that went bump in the night. After a night like the one he just had, logic was not going to win with Wesley.

  
________________________________________________________________________________________________ __

Cordelia yawned as she fished the keys her bag. She had waited in the cab as Anna made a brief stop in the corner market in order to get orange juice and muselix for her morning meal. That little detour between the wait and the different route home had cost Cordelia half-hour worth of sleep. But to tell the truth, the young girl did not mind. Anna had paid the cab fair and offered to pay in the morning for the cab fair back to work.

Cordelia smiled at the thought. _No bus for me, no, sir. I won't have to sit next to Mr. Chain Smoker with the stinky clothing or Mrs. Ignore the baby while she screams her head off. Just a nice, calm cab ride to work. _

Cordelia remembered when she had her own car and the freedom that went along with it. But that went away when the IRS got their grubby mitts on her father's expenses. But that was then and this was now. She unlocked the door and walked into her apartment. Anna followed suit carrying some plastic grocery bags. With a flip of the light switch Anna was exposed to the beauty that was Cordelia's apartment. The décor was strictly American down to the southwestern colored walls. 

"This is huge!" Anna gasped without giving it another thought.

Cordelia scrunched her eyebrows. "You think so?" She dropped her bag on the coffee table nearly knocking over a vase that overflowed with fresh sunflowers. Giving her place a quick once over, she added, "Yeah, I guess it is."

Following Cordelia to the kitchen Anna explained that her home back in Hungary was not quite as large but it was costing her through the nose. Anna settled the bags on the counter top and suddenly looked over her shoulder to the open air behind her. A puzzled look crossed her face. Gingerly she rubbed her cheek; "Do you feel a draft?"

Cordelia looked at the woman. "A draft?" She took a carton of juice from one of the bags and placed it in the fridge. "No, why do you ask?"

"Because it suddenly became cold in here."

"Oh, that's because of De-" Cordelia began and realized where she was heading with the conversation. Quickly she improvised, "_Deeeeents, _yeah, dents along the air conditioning ducts. An earthquake a few years ago damaged them and now the apartment gets funny drafts all the time." She smiled, "This place may look great but it's really falling apart at the seams."

Anna gave the girl a deadpan stare.

Cordelia was still flashing a movie star grin and she kept on smiling until her cheeks were aching.

With a shrug of the shoulders Anna continued unpacking her groceries. Cordelia sighed in relief and turned away from the woman's sight. She mouthed the words, "Go away, Dennis!" to the empty space around her and hoped the ghost would obey. 

"You don't know how much in debt I am to you for taking me in, Cordelia," Anna said as she discarded the grocery bag into the trashcan. " Americans are friendliest people I have ever met. Such hospitality. Such warmth."

"Now there are two words that I thought I'd never hear in L. A.," laughed Cordelia as she led the woman to the linen closet. 

"No, I am being honest." The woman protested as she was handed a large comforter. "If the roles were reversed I don't know if I would have done the same."

"Well, to tell the truth, you can thank Angel for this little slumber party. He suggested it and I just went along."

Anna stared at the wall before her. Her face fell and became stern. "He's a good man, Angel, that is. Isn't he?"

"Yeah, he is." 

A rash of red started spread across Anna's cheeks. "And Wesley…"

"What about him?"

"Is he with anyone?"

Cordelia scrunched up her brow and then smirked when she understood what Anna was implying. "Him? No. He's not much of Mr. Date-guy."

"So, you're not. And he's not."

The girl roared with laughter only to remember that she and him were once an item. "We were once. A looonnng time ago. But then something happened."

Anna cocked her head and asked what.

"He became family. I date and dump guys like nobody's business. But family, I never abandon." She smiled as thoughts of the awkward young British man danced in her head. "Wesley is a nice guy. A total geek, but he'd lay his life down for you in a New York minute."

"I know." Anna sighed as rested against the hallway wall. "In many ways he reminds me of my Peter. A bit clumsy but was charming none the less. A prince in a court jester's body."

"I wouldn't have put it that way," the girl said as she placed a pillow on top of the comforter, "But basically it's the same thing."

With ten pounds of linen in her arms, Anna was given the choice of sleeping on the couch or Cordelia's bed, with Cordelia taking the couch. In all fairness, Cordelia really did not want the couch but offered it anyway because of two reasons. One being Anna was a client after all and such an act would be sure to impress her. And the other one being Cordelia was always taught to be the gracious host. Guests came first. 

In the end Anna chose the couch. Cordelia didn't protest.

Anna dropped the linen on the couch and suddenly noticed something. "Your purse," she began as she pointed at the coffee table, "Your purse is gone." 

The purse was indeed gone but the woman spotted it a moment later on one of the coat hooks on the far end of the room. She then realized that the flower vase, which had been nudged a little from when Cordelia had thrown her purse down, was back in its resting-place. Scratching her head Anna proclaimed that this could not be so. She had followed Cordelia around the whole apartment like a puppy and never once did she see the girl put her purse away and tidy up the vase. So the whole sight before her was impossible. And yet there it was. 

With eyes widening, Cordelia found herself at a loss for words. She couldn't bluff her way out of this one. Maybe if she fainted or suddenly claimed she was having a heart attack she could escape from her painted corner. 

Suddenly Anna swirled around. She rubbed her cheek again. "There it is again," she hissed. "That draft." 

Cordelia closed her eyes. If there was any way on Earth to bring Dennis back from the dead and make him mortal again, Cordelia was going to find it. This was just for the sole reason so she could kill him with her own bare hands. 

Anna screamed. Cordelia screamed. It was a gut reaction on her part. She opened her eyes in time to see Anna coming at her. The woman grabbed Cordelia's arm and held it tight. 

"What? What is it!" Cordelia gasped as she looked over towards the couch.

There on the couch was the linen, all neatly unfolded and laid out. The edge of the comforter had been rolled down and the pillow was propped up against the left armrest. A small Andes mint was resting on the pillow. Anna's bed had been made but not by her. 

The girl winced. Dennis was making sure that Anna would know that something was wrong. 

"What is going on!?" Anna demanded. 

Suddenly a single sunflower floated out from the vase and flew towards Anna. It stopped a few inches short of her. With wide, unblinking eyes, the woman didn't know how to handle this other than to let out a scared whimper.

Sighing as she shook her head Cordelia gestured to the flower. "Anna, this is Dennis. He is my roommate who just happens to be a ghost. And, oh, yeah, as you can tell he hates to be ignored."

Anna looked at the flower, then at the girl, then back to the flower and then back at the girl.

"Take the flower. He's harmless. Annoying but harmless."

Anna smiled weakly as she took the flower. A cold breeze engulfed her. Her eyes darted about not sure where to look. "I knew I felt something. I felt it the moment I walked into this place. That comes from being around the supernatural for so long." With her empty hand she felt the air around her. "Can he talk?"

"No," Cordelia said with a yawn. "But he can sure make a racket when he wants to."

"Dennis, what happened to you?" Anna looked Cordelia with sad eyes. "Why is he here?"

"His mother offed him," the girl answered with a deadpan tone. "Real Edgar Allen Poe style. But thanks to him I've got the place rent controlled. And he's not half bad. Like an invisible puppy, minus the fur all over the couch." 

"You poor thing," whispered Anna as she looked at her flower. "I hope someday you will find your peace."

"So, you don't mind it that I have a ghost?" 

Anna shook her head. She placed the flower back in the vase. "Cordelia, I felt Dennis. I knew something supernatural was here."

"Yeah? And?"

The woman walked around the coffee table and sat down. She looked at the mint on her pillow and picked it up. Her fingers played with the foil wrapper. "Angel. What is he?"

The girl took a step back. The color raced from her skin. "Huh?"

"Angel is a vampire, isn't he?"

Cordelia felt the weight of her body overpowering her knees and all at once they buckled. But Dennis was quick with a chair and was able to catch her before she crashed to the floor. Sometimes it was good having a ghost for a roommate. 

  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________   


Joshua puffed on a cigarette as he and Cully walked down the street. His face had almost completely healed but the pain was somewhat still there whenever he sucked the smoke into his lungs. Still his habit won out to his pain. The heroin had worn off and he needed another fix of something. Walking down the street the two of them looked like a brother and sister pair of common street kids. Joshua had changed his bloody outfit for a pair of cargo pants and a skater shirt and Cully had chosen a dark blue cotton dress with boots. Brightly colored rubber bracelets and Hello Kitty rings graced her fingers and wrists. Such a cute and innocent thing was to throw people off. No mortal would have ever guessed that she was pushing three hundred. 

"This way," Joshua said as he took the girl by the wrist and led her down an alleyway. He was leading Cully to where he last saw the hunter. Hopefully he had left a clue to who he was and where he was from. The two of them stopped a block away from the murder site only to see about four police cars and twice as many cops surrounding the space.

"He called the cops?" hissed Joshua. He groaned, "My prints are all over that body. Dammit."

Cully told the vampire to calm down. "We have a friend here." 

Joshua looked up to see what the girl was talking about. Leaning against a squad car was one of the detectives, a tall, fairly aged man with peppered black hair. He didn't look any different from anyone else on the force. No gentle eyes or brooding glare. Nothing that would give away his true nature. But Cully knew Detective Ingles better than that. She whistled. The man turned his head in her direction and smiled. He said something to the plain-clothes cop next to him about attending to some insider business. The cop nodded as if he understood what the man was talking about. 

Ingles walked up to Cully as if it was the most casual thing in the world. But then he cocked his head to the side, folded his arms and said, "A whore with a slashed throat. A whore who also happens to be light a quart of blood. Ok, who was it? You?"

The small vampire smiled as she ran her fingers along the sleeves of the detective's shirt. "How can you say that, Henry? You know I'm not that sloppy." 

A scowl crossed the man's face as he took hold of the girl's tiny hand and shoved it away from him. He didn't like to be touched by her kind. The feeling was eerie and cold. And it all but reminded him that he was being touched by something dead and evil. Cully looked at her hand and shrugged. She could not care less if her flesh disgusted the man. Many men weren't disgusted. 

"It was Joshua." The girl pointed to the young man who was trying to hide behind a lamppost. It only resulted with him looking like a male prostitute. "But it wasn't his fault. He would have disposed of the body better if he had not been attacked."

Ingles' ears perked up. "Attacked?" 

"Yes. A hunter. He attacked Joshua with some Holy Water and nearly burned his face off. Luckily, Joshua escaped before he could get staked." 

"Damn shame," hissed Ingles. 

Joshua heard the remark and his faced changed to demon. It had a horrible night for him and the last thing he needed was some crooked cop making jokes about his life. Still the vampire remained where he was and allowed Cully to continue with her work.

"Oh, you don't mean that," the girl cooed as she reached out to the man. Ingles backed away. Cully shrugged. "It's not like we kill the respectable people of this city. We only take the junkies and whores. The trash that people wish would disappear anyway. We beautify the city."

Ingles wasn't buying it. Every inch of him told that fact. "She was a kid, Cully. Barely out of the highchair."

"And yet there she was. In every back seat going down on men old enough to be her grandfather all the while high on every drug known to man. I bet you she made mother proud." Cully gave the man a cold sneer. She did not like being scolded by anyone like she was still a child. Especially by a mortal who was barely over one tenth of her age. "Why should you care anyway, Henry? You not having a bout of conscience on me, are you?"

Ingles shook his head and smiled. "Guilt is only for those who can afford it. What do you want, Cully? You already know I'm turning my back on this case. It's not like I can tell my boss that vampires are the reason for all the whore deaths in L.A.. And my connection to your precious absinthe was just sent up this morning."

The little vampire's face fell. "Joey's gone?" 

"Yes. Three years in prison. And with that sweet face of his, he isn't going to last long." Amusement suddenly danced in the man's eyes. He never cared for Joey. Too whiney. The only reason he worked with the drug dealer was for the money. But now since he is gone it was one less stain on his soul to worry about. "So now that the well has run dry why don't you pack up your things and leave. I never liked your kind. And the reason why I allowed for these murders to go unchecked is because I hate whores and junkies even more. You're all a headache for me."

Cully was trying with all her might to keep her temper in check. If this had been any other man, even with the cops crawling all over the place like ants at a picnic she would killed him at once. But she needed him. Years have told her that some mortals were more useful alive than dead. "I want to leave. And we were going to leave for Mexico tomorrow but not any more." Narrowed, angry eyes sized the man up. She so wanted to slit his throat. The feeling was a fire in her veins. She covered her face with her tiny hands as her appearance changed from human to demon. Her throat burned and her body trembled. Christ, she needed a drink. No, she needed the whole Goddamn bottle. 

Ingles instinctively place his hand on his gun even though he wasn't sure on what effect bullets had on Cully's kind. When the girl looked up her face was back to human. But even with a human face staring back at him, Ingles could see the wildness in the girl's eyes. His skin began to crawl. "Why can't you leave?"

"I want to kill that son of a bitch who tried to murder my Joshua." She grabbed the man by the arm but this time he didn't flinch or jerk back. He was too scared to. "The person who called you. Was it man or woman?"

"Man. But he was with a woman."

"She is of no concern of mine. He is."

Ingles could not deny that. His eyes gazed down at the girl's hand. Watching it as the fingers pulled at the fabric of his shirt, he wondered how long it was until sunrise. 

Cully's voice became a whisper as she gestured for the detective to bend down to her height. He obeyed. "Tell me about this man. Was he a fairly tall brunette with glasses and a blue shirt?"

The man nodded. "Late twenties. English."

__

"English?" Cully hissed. She had no love for the English. So much the better that this man was one of them. His death was going to be a grand luxury for her. "Do you have his address?"

"My fee," the man hissed back. He had no idea where that boldness came from. But it was quickly gone as the girl's face changed.

Yellow eyes, monster's eyes glared back into his. "This one will be a freebie. A going away present for Joshua and me." Her eyes became human again. "After we get this man you will never hear from us again."

Not sure whether rejoice or remain surly, Ingles instead stood up and shook free from the girl's grasp. He dug into his shirt pocket for his notebook. He opened it and ripped out a page. "Here's his name, address and home phone number. The number underneath it is his work number."

Cully read the name that proceeded the work number. "'Angel Investigations'? What are they? Christian detectives?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Ingles laughed, "It would explain that whole attack. Those Holy Rollers know everything when it comes to you guys."

The detective's humor fell flat on the girl. She turned away from the man without saying a word and left. He remained silent glad to see that there would be two less monsters in the city. Still, in his heart he had wished that Cully had paid his fee. 

The small vampire walked up to Joshua. She nuzzled his arm for a bit, purring like a kitten all the while. Joshua cupped her cheeks and smiled. "I take it you got the information."

Cully answered this by swinging the sheet of paper in the air. The young man took the sheet and gave it the once over. His face scrunched up. "Wesley?" Not much of a name. Not by American standards. 

"He's English," Cully said as he took the boy by the hand. She kissed the top of it. 

Joshua smiled. His feelings on the English were same as Cully's. "I can't wait to meet him."

END OF PART THREE

  
****


	4. last cup of sorrow

Angel the series was created and is owned by the Joss Whedon. I just work here. _On a side note- please tell me what you think about the story so far. Bad? Good? Boring? I'd like to know. E-mail me _[exit_12_@hotmail.com][1]_. Or visit my web page at _[http://members.xoom.com/D_exit_12][2]__ Thank you. (Bows and departs).

SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

(part four)

by Lamech

Cully stood before Wesley's front door with a box full of chocolate bars in her arms. Her hair was brushed behind her ears and she was grinning as warmly as she could. She looked like a school kid on a candy drive. That was the point. 

She knew she couldn't walk into Wesley's apartment without his permission. Those were the rules. But she found ways of getting permission. With a bat of an eyelash and pout of the childish lip most men were willing to give their souls to her. She knew how to work with the body she was trapped in. Being a little girl forever was not as horrible as she once first thought it would be. Evil packaged in a delicate offering was the best way to tempt mortals. No one ever saw it coming. 

Still it was nearly two o'clock at night. Not a sensible time for any kind of fund raising. But Cully had a lie for that too. She, as a schoolgirl in a contest, had to sell as many candy bars as she could. And since she was new to the building, she was going to try everyone in the place. If Wesley got angry, Cully had a fix-up for that to. Cry. It was a cheap shot but she knew most people hated to see others cry. More so when it came to children. 

The girl could see it all now; she would offer the candy bars and then ask to use his phone because she was supposed to call her father once she was done with the building. The father, living in a different part of town because of the divorce would then come and pick her up and Cully would work his building. 

Though it sounded complicated, the plan was really simple. Knock. Offer bars. Ask to use the phone. Come in. Kill. 

Joshua stood in the stairwell and peaked around the corner to where Cully was standing. He couldn't very well stand next to his sire. Wesley would take one look at him and freak. No, Cully instead said she would walk in grab Wesley, snap his neck, not to kill him but to paralyze him and drag him out into the hallway. Then Joshua and her could finish the job.

Cully cleared her throat and knocked.

She waited. Nothing came.

She knocked again. 

Not even a stir behind the door answered her.

She knocked again but with a little more force. Maybe Wesley was asleep. Though she couldn't understand why. He had just fought a vampire. Cully imagined that would keep even the most sound hunters awake through the night. At least for one night.

"Hello?" she called out. 

"He's not there," a voice called from behind Joshua. 

He turned around to see a middle aged woman in a blue housedress. Her blonde hair was tainted with silver strands and her face was worn with well-earned wrinkles. The woman took one look at Joshua and walked past him as if he was some sort of stairwell decoration. However she looked at Cully with some curiosity. Cully gave the woman a sad, puppy dog stare.

"He's not?" she sighed.

"No, he just went out. I heard him run down the stairs about ten minutes ago." The woman walked up to the girl and folded her arms. "Why do you want him?"

Cully's eyes went wide. She was going to have to make up a good one. "We," she began as she pointed to Joshua and herself, "were supposed to meet him here."

The woman suddenly threw up her hands, breaking the girl's rhythm. "Wait. You talk funny."

__

"Funny?" Cully sneered. A rash of anger came out in her voice. She couldn't help it. She covered it up with a smile. "How so?"

"You talk like Wes," the woman answered.

Cully bit her tongue to keep herself from cursing the woman out for even comparing her Scottish accent to a damned English one. But she should have known better. To most uneducated Americans Scottish, Irish, English and even Aussie accent all sound the same when it came to their tin ears. And by the way this woman was carrying herself, Cully could safely bet that she wasn't a member of MENSA. 

Suddenly a spark of inspiration came to the vampire. A new and better lie came into focus. "Uhm, yes, talk like Wes," she said in her best imitation of an English accent. It was a horrible try. She came off sounding like a cheap Monty Python stereotype but the girl knew that the woman would bite, hook line and sinker. "That's because Joshua, and me" she motioned for the young man to come over. He did. "Are Wesley's cousins. You see, we were supposed to meet him here and stay at his place while we are in town."

It was Joshua who took a turn to shine. "We just got off the plane a hour ago. And we are exhausted." His English accent was no better than Cully's but he continued. "All the money we have is tied up in the banks. We're supposed to go to First National later this morning so we can get our holiday spending money. Because as of this moment we don't have a penny between us." With that Joshua took the girl into his arms and hugged her. The two of them looked like a couple of depression era waifs. 

The woman just stared at the two. Her arms were still folded across her ample chest.

__

Fine, you want to play dirty. Cully thought._ We'll play dirty. _

She sniffed. Tears began to well in her eyes. Burying her face in the young man's arms she wept, "Oh, Joshua, what are we going to do? Wesley could be gone for Lord knows how long and we'll be stuck in the streets. If only the landlord was here." She looked up and gasped. "The landlord. We can ask the landlord to help us. I am sure he will be kind and gentle enough to help us."

"I am the landlady," the woman suddenly said, arousing from her vegetable like state.

Cully smiled. She already knew that. She had known the moment her eyes had settled on the frumpled woman. _And you look every bit the part. _The girl shoved the box of chocolate bars in Joshua's arms and threw herself at the woman. The woman caught her only to have Cully continue to sob in her chest. "Oh, then you can help us! (sob) Please say you will help us (whine)! We have no one else to turn to! And we're so tired. The plane ride was so horribly long and grueling. We just want to sleep. (Sob, sob) Oh, our bones ache so much I feel like we could pass out in the hallway right at this very moment." My God it was a hammy bit of acting. But Cully could feel it working as she felt the woman's arms curling around her and embracing her. 

"Don't worry, sweetheart," the woman hummed, "I'll let you in. But what about your things? Your bags! Where are your bags?"

__

Dammit. I forgot about that. Cully looked at the woman and allowed her face to break into loud almost obnoxious cries. "The airline lost them!"

Joshua turned away and covered his mouth. He wanted to burst out laughing. This was all too much. And when the woman replied with a "Oh, you poor child," Joshua bit the meat of his palm to muffle the giggle that just had to escape. Luckily for him the giggle sound like a defeated cry. So much the better for his cause. He felt the woman's hand climbing around him and suddenly he found himself in her tight embrace.

"You poor things, the both of you. Look you, you are both as cold as ice!" the woman proclaimed. 

Joshua gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. He felt the tight squeeze of Cully's hand in his. They had won. 

The woman let the two of them go. She fished a pair of keys out from her pocket, "Now if you need anything I'm on the top floor. I live with my granddaughter, Hannah. Even though she's a kid she knows this city better than anyone I know of." She pointed a key to Cully, "She's about your age. You're about ten or eleven, right?"

Cully nodded. "Eleven, ma'am."

"Oh, please, don't call me ma'am. Call me Grandma Booker. That's what everyone calls me, sweetie." Another bear hug tackled the little girl. "Anyway, when you're settled in how about you come over later this morning for some breakfast? I've always told Wesley to come over for a meal but the poor fella is always working. Maybe with his family over he'll slow down a bit."

"Maybe," smiled Cully as she wiggled out of Grandma Booker's grasp. 

The woman walked past the two and jingled her keys. "There we are, Wesley's apartment." She unlocked the door and walked inside. Her hands fumbled for the light switch but she found it. "Well, in you go," she hummed as she waved Cully and Joshua into the flat.

"We're invited?" asked the girl as she her folded hands to her chest. 

"Of course you are," cried the woman as she took the girl by the hand and led her into the room. "You both are. Don't be silly. At least not at this hour."

Cully looked over her shoulder at Joshua who gingerly waltzed in behind her. She raised her eyebrows and smirked. The young man nodded as he pulled out a straight razor from his pocket. Even though the blade with its ivory handle was well over a hundred years old, almost as old as the vampire that held it, the razor's edge never failed to slice. 

Grandma Booker turned around in time to see the blade run across her throat. A choke that should have been scream escaped her mouth. Cully and Joshua stood before the dying woman with faces that were still human. Faces that were smiling as Grandma crawled around the floor looking for help. 

Death this way was always better when the victim died thinking that her murderer was human. Always senseless. Always maddening. 

Cully took a step back as the pool of blood began to race towards her feet. She didn't want to mess up her boots. They were her favorite after all.

  
__________________________________________________________________________________________   


"What is your answer, Cordelia?" demanded Anna as she shook her fists "Is Angel a vampire or not?"

Cordelia answered with another helpless whimper. Her hands were waving wildly, trying to find some way to distract the woman. The girl was failing miserably. "He's- he's- he's," she began. She hated when she stumbled on her words so. Hated even more when the person to whom she as speaking to was making the same face that Anna was giving her know. That _"don't lie to me because you don't really want to find out how mad I can get"_ face. 

A glass of water floated in front of Cordelia. Dennis was helping out in the best way he could. The girl took a sip of water and held her breath. This was it. In one burst of verbal discussion she was going to tell all. And God help it if Angel didn't like her blabbering because this mess was his doing..

__

Alright. Ready. Steady. Go. "Yes, Angel's a vampire. But he's a good vampire. Not a bad one. He's- he's like Glenda the Good Witch of vampires. Well, minus the pink prom dress and helium voice. But he's good none the less. Not that he's perfect good. He still has his faults like hassling me for the way I make the coffee. But how am I supposed to know? I don't drink coffee. Well, not coffee straight up. I'm more of a Starbucks glamour coffee gal. Coffees with Italian words behind it like latte or mocha. Anyway, uhm, anyway, Angel is good. He has a soul. You see, some gypsies put the whammy on him and now he has his old soul back. Don't ask why the gypsies did it. That is water under the bridge. But he has a soul, like I said. And he's trying to make up for the wrongs he has done in his life. He's a good guy. He's really trying to help people. Oh, oh, he's save lives. He has saved my life and Wesley's as well. He fights demons and other vampires. Angel that is not Wesley. No, wait, Wesley fights as well. But you get my point. And I'm really rambling. But to put it in the Reader's Digest version, Angel is good vampire."

Cordelia took another sip of water as she watched Anna sink onto the couch.

The woman's eyes drifted from Cordelia to nowhere in particular.

"So, Angel _is _a vampire," the woman said in a breathless whisper.

"He's a good vampire," emphasized Cordelia as she waved her glass in the woman's direction.

"Angel is a _vampire,"_ the woman repeated but in a shocked tone.

"I think you're missing the point," Cordelia chimed as she stood in front of the woman. She waved her hands as if they were holding batons. "Now say it with me, 'Angel is a good vampire.'"

Anna's face drifted up to the girl's own. Her eyes were round and hollow like two blinding moons. Cordelia could not see or tell what emotions hid behind them. The girl didn't know whether to speak or to run. Still with all the time she had worked for Angel and fought along side with Buffy she knew it was best to take a steady, easy step backwards. Just a safe enough distance for a good running start. 

"Anna?"

The woman dropped her head down with a heavy sigh. She suddenly burst to her feet and kicked the table. The table would have flipped completely over if Dennis had not caught it in time. The vase and sunflowers danced back to their resting space. All of this was irrelevant to Anna. Her eyes were focused on the trembling girl before her.

"YOU WORK FOR A VAMPIRE!" Anna screamed as her face flushed red with anger. "MY HUSBAND WAS KILLED BY ONE OF THEM AND YOU WORK FOR ONE!"

"He's good!" Cordelia whimpered, "I swear to God, I swear on my own life, Angel is good. He wouldn't harm anyone who is innocent. Please! Please! Believe me." The girl took a few steps backwards as she talked. Her eyes darted around looking for a sign that Dennis was near. But nothing moved. Where was he when she needed him the most? She could feel her heart in her chest pound and her mind raced as she thought about fleeing out the front door. She could probably make it before Anna was able to react. But something told the girl to remain where she was. A wisp of headache trailed through her mind. _Oh, God, this better not be one of those vision warning signals. I don't need this right now, Power whatever you are._

Anna gritted her teeth; "You work for a _seggfej _vampire!" Her hands curled up to tight fists as she followed the girl step by step. "A vampire!"

Cordelia closed her eyes. Where was Dennis? WHERE WAS HE? If he didn't act soon he was going to end up with a permanent roommate. Not because of Anna's handiwork but because Cordelia was going to have a heart attack from fright. She wondered why she was not fighting herself. She had fought before and fought well. The girl sucked the air in her chest. She wasn't going to give up without at least a tussle. She had real nails. She could scratch. She saw Jerry Springer enough times to pick up a thing or two on how to cat fight. At least Angel would be proud to say she went down kicking and screaming. She just hoped that Anna would leave her face alone. Live fast, die young leave a good-looking corpse. 

Suddenly a sob broke her train of thought. Cordelia opened one eye. The coast was clear. The other eye followed as another sob broke through the silence. 

"Anna?"

The girl looked down to see Anna at her feet in a sad mess. The woman was curled up in a ball. Her face was buried in her hands. Tears were running between her fingers and soaking the floor. Her body was shaking as she sobbed with such violence that she looked like she convulsing. 

Cordelia shivered in shock. Suddenly a floating towel appeared before her. _Oh, there you are, you coward. _She grabbed it and went to her knees. "Anna?"

The woman looked up and took the towel. She held it to her face as if it were a security blanket. "How cruel God is. He made a demon my enemy as well as my savior." 

The girl's hands gently drifted over to the woman's tired face and wiped a stray tear off of her cheek. A sweetness fell over the girl as she took the woman into her arms and hugged her. Cordelia had been where Anna was at right now. Where good and evil, black and white took on shades of shifting gray. Been through the very same footsteps. But she had others to help her out. Buffy, Willow, Giles and for the most part Xander were there to keep her sane. Now it was her turn to be the stable one, to be the rock. She hoped she would not fail in her duty. 

  


__________________________________________________________________________

  


Wesley began his fifth cup of coffee and looked around the dinner. The place was almost completely empty except for a stray girl at the far left end of the dinner and a couple of waitresses who were trying to figure out what was wrong with the cash register. 

The young man tried to strike up a conversation with one of them. But the woman would run past him with an "I'll get to you in a minute, hun," at his every attempt. The only time she would stop was when Wesley held out his empty coffee cup. The woman would look at it, smile and disappeared behind a door marked "Kitchen". A second later she would reappear with a cup of coffee with a thick head of whipped cream decorating the top. And off she would go to some unknown source of urgency. 

This was not Wesley had in mind when he wanted "human contact." But he didn't mind. The place was quiet and peaceful. He could hear music drifting in from the kitchen. He leaned forward and tried to tune into the song. He recognized some of the lyrics. 

__

"Please to meet you. Hope you guess my name. But what's puzzling you is the nature of my game."

"'Sympathy for the Devil'" Wesley mouthed. He smirked. "Fitting for a night like this." He took another sip of his drink. His cheeks burned with warmth that he had not felt in ages. Dismissing the feeling to left over adrenaline, he continued to drink and listen to the music. 

"What is the nature of your game?" whispered the young man with an angelic smile. Another large gulp went down his throat, ending cup number five. He held it up knowing that somehow by some strange reason his waitress would see it. A minute later he was proven right when coffee mug number six was settled in front of him. 

"Thank you very much," he said to the vanishing woman. 

The young man sat on his barstool and began to figure out how he was going to drink the coffee without getting a face full of whipped cream. He had done it so easily with the first one but for an answer he couldn't figure out the act of drinking without the added prize of a cream mustache was becoming more and more difficult with each new mug. Maybe it was the burden of lack of sleep catching up to him. 

He looked at his mug and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, there's always napkins." And with that he took a swig of his coffee. Cream dribbled down his chin and onto his shirt. He groaned and settled the mug back onto the counter. This was not what he wanted. 

The kitchen door swung open. Mick Jagger was still bellowing. 

"Here you go," hummed a voice. 

A clean washcloth appeared on the counter before the man. He looked up to see his waitress looking at his stained shirt. The young man blushed and took it. 

"At least you didn't get it on your jacket," the woman said as she waited for the young man to finish his semiwashing.

"Doesn't matter," the young man replied back. "It's not like the jacket is dry clean only. I couldn't have those type of clothes in my line of work."

"Oh, what do you do?"

"I'm a detect-," Wesley paused and sighed. He couldn't call himself that, not with a straight face. "I'm a hunter. And I'm a lousy one at that." He quickly sped up the pace of the way the washcloth was rubbing against his shirt. 

The waitress was interested. She grabbed the washcloth from Wesley's hands and began to clean his shirt herself. The young man felt his cheeks burn even more as he could smell a mix of dishwashing liquid and cheap perfume waft from the woman's dry skin. "And what do you hunt? Deer? Bear? Cougar?"

The young man shook his head. Not because she was wrong. Which she was. But because he was trying to resist the urge to lean over and kiss her. It had been a while since he had kissed a woman. Last time it was with Cordelia and that meant nothing. She had only kissed him in order to rid herself of Doyle's gift to her. What Wesley wanted was a real kiss. He wanted to kiss and to be kissed back. "No," he whispered in a husky voice that slurred his accent. His hands grabbed hers and pushed them away, gently. In the deepest part of his mind he knew he couldn't force her to kiss him. She would get angry and kick him out. Or worse call the police for sexual assault. And that's all he needed. 

Though he wouldn't be surprise. _Doesn't trouble come in threes? The first one was the vampire in the alleyway. I know it is going to go from bad to worse. What will come next?_ He smiled as a thought approached his mind. Maybe he should kiss her. If a day in jail were one of his troubles than it would be fine with him. Jail would be a cakewalk as far as he was concerned.

"Well, what do you hunt then?" the waitress asked again.

Wesley shook his head. Back to reality, at least for now. The young man took a sip of his coffee. "I hunt things."

The woman wrung the washcloth in her hands over a large basin that was settled behind the counter. She smiled at the odd answer. _"Things?"_

"Things," replied the Wesley, "And trust me when I say I should leave it at that."

With a shrug of her well padded shoulders, the woman began to wipe down the counter that was around the young man.

A loud ring made Wesley jump. He was glad that his was cup was barely full otherwise his shirt would have been washed for nothing. He grabbed within the folds of his jacket and pulled out a tiny phone. 

"Hello?" he answered.

"Wesley, this is Angel. I'm sorry I have to wake you up."

The tone of voice was a calm but concerned one. Wesley smiled and shook his head even though he knew very well that the vampire could not see him

"I wasn't asleep."

On the other side Angel noticed there was something odd to the young man's voice. His accent had become thicker. Still the vampire dismissed it.

"Good then. Can you meet me at the office in ten minutes? I just received a call from one of my contacts. He gave me an address to a place downtown that could answer some of our questions about the vampire."

"I don't know, Angel," Wesley said as his face took on a melancholy look. "Couldn't you do this one without me?"

"Wesley?" the vampire said as he just about fell out of the chair he was sitting in.

The young man leaned over the counter and stared into his coffee mug. "If I go I am bound to fail. It is how I am. How I will always be. I've made such a mess of things with my life and I refuse to drag you and Cordelia down with me. It is the only honorable act that I cannot flaw." 

"Wesley?" Angel said again. His eyes were big as saucers and jaw was hanging open. These words were so unlike the man. Wesley was always trying to prove himself. He was the first to try and the last to give up. 

"Yes, I'll take another cup."

Angel blinked at the strange phrase. "What?!"

"I wasn't talking to you," Wesley answered as he watched his waitress take away his empty coffee mug. "I was just talking to Yolanda."

"Yolanda?"

"Yes, the waitress."

"Huh?" Angel stood up and looked at his phone. He shook his head trying to make sense of the man's words. "Wes, where are you?" Angel's patience though most times was infinite was at the moment becoming thin. 

"You know of the diner that is a block away from my flat?" Wesley began as he took his new creamed top mug in hand. 

Angel shook his head. "No."

"Well, I am here." He licked the whipped cream off from his topped lip. "Enjoying coffee type "number thirty-two"."

The vampire began to pace around the room with the phone cord trailing behind him like a plastic tail. He ran his right hand through his hair, "Number thirty-two?"

"Yes," Wesley took a sip of his coffee and smiled. He didn't know why he was smiling. He just felt like doing so. "It's the diner's strongest coffee. At least that is what Yolanda said. And I trust her in her beverage judgment."

"Beverage jud-no, this is not right. Not right," Angel said as he stopped in his tracks. Wesley was acting to strange and regular coffee did not do such things to the human body. "Wesley, I need you to listen to me."

"Yes, Angel. What do you want me to do? If it is fowling up, messing up things or just getting the Powers That Be to laugh at me then I am here for you." Another sip went down. Wesley was now looking at the bottom of his coffee cup. He knew how to read tea leaves but what about coffee stains? He did not really need to do any research on the subject because he already knew what his future held for him. Bad luck. Bad luck for the rest of his miserable life. Taking a napkin he crumpled it up and stuffed it into the mug. He then asked Yolanda to grab another mug. "I am your fortune's fool," he said in a pitiful whisper.

On the other side of the phone, Angel rolled his eyes and hissed into the phone for Wesley to shut up for once. The young man obeyed without an apologetic whimper. "Now ask Yolanda what a "number thirty-two" is."

"Okay, sure, whatever."

Angel mouthed the man's almost typical Californian reply. He could hear Wesley call out to the waitress. In return the woman, who was making a loud racket, she seemed to be carrying some plates in her arms, at least that's what Angel thought he heard, came over to the man.

Wesley pointed to the phone; "This is Angel. Would you please tell him what a "number thirty-two" is?"

The waitress leaned towards the tiny phone's receiver. She didn't know who this "Angel" character was. Didn't know if he was a he or she was a she. Still she talked. "A "number thirty-two" is the strongest coffee mix we have. And your friend just finished his seventh cup. How he's still upright is beyond me. After all this coffee is a real mule kick."

"THAT WAS NOT WHAT I MEAN!!!!" Angel shouted. He could only imagine Yolanda taking a surprised step back as his emotional outburst blasted her. Lowering his voice to a sane tone he continued, "What exactly is in the coffee?"

"Oh," the woman responded in a gentle voice, "You mean what type is it?"

Now he was getting somewhere. Angel nodded and realized that he would have to say something verbally. "Yes," he responded in a tired voice, "What type is it?"

"It's Irish coffee."

What came next was an instant and simultaneous reaction on both Wesley and Angel's part. The act was almost as if they had rehearsed it. "WHAT?!" both of them screamed.

Wesley's head hit the counter top with a dull thud, "Christ, I'm pissed." 

"Drunk," mumured the vampire as he held down the receiver. That explained a lot. He had never seen the young man drunk before. So, this was the drunk version of Wesley, a sniveling pup that did not have an ounce of self worth in himself. It was much like the old Watcher Wesley. Angel was not too please with him. Still Wesley was still needed. "Go home, Wes. I've got a sobriety spell here we can use. I'll come and pick you up."

"I am such a moron," whined the young man as he placed the phone of the counter top. The phone was still opened and Angel was still talking. 

"Wesley, did you hear me? Go home!"

The young man buried his face in his folded arms. "I will," he hissed back to the phone and then added with a whisper, "with my tail between my legs."

He couldn't believe he was drunk. He was not much of a drinker before hand. And to make it worse Angel had discovered him pissed faced. _I knew it. Trouble number two has finally made its grand entrance, _he thought as he paid his tab._ Good God, someone shoot me before three comes. _

END OF PART FOUR

****

   [1]: mailto:exit_12_@hotmail.com
   [2]: http://members.xoom.com/D_exit_12



	5. search and destroy

ANGEL The Series was created and is own by that son of gun, Joss Whedon. Me? I'm off trying to find the Holy Grail. Wish me luck! That or e-mail me and tell me what you think of this series so far. [exit_12_@hotmail.com][1]

SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

(Part Five)

by Lamech

"He isn't coming," Joshua said as he knotted one of Wesley's ties around his neck. The vampire was standing in front of the makeshift bedroom mirror. He didn't know why he was doing such a thing seeing how he lacked a reflection. Still, the act was an old habit that refused to die. "We've been waiting for over two hours and _Grandma Booker_ is beginning to smell." He smoothed a hand over the tie and smiled. "My tie now."

He dove back into Wesley's closet in search for other goodies.

Cully was sitting in front of the opened entrance door in one of the kitchen chairs. Rubbing the gun in her hands over and over again she hissed in response to Joshua's whine. "Shut up. That's the matter with you, pup. No patience. I could wait here for weeks without even twitching." And she would wait for weeks if it came down to it. She glared out into the hallway. Lifting the gun she pretended that Wesley had just walked in. She aimed the pistol at the non-existent Wesley's head and mocked firing at him straight between the eyes. 

"Besides it's not like we are itching to go anywhere. Not anymore. Mexico never interested me to tell the truth. Filthy. Lousy water. Like here but with an accent," she grinned at her own humor.

Joshua poked his head from behind one of Wesley's silk panels that separated the entire flat apart. "Sorry, Cully, did you say something?" He was wearing Wesley's leather jacket. It fitted him two sizes too big but he still wore it with an oversized, lame smile on his face.

"I made a joke," the girl sighed as she waved her gun as if to dismiss the boy. "And it was rather a funny one. Am I not right, Grandma?"

With her right boot, the girl vampire nudged the body at her feet. The corpse wiggled back and forth like a wreathing maggot. The head was still attached to the body by the back of the neck. But if the girl gave the body one more shove it would snap off. Flies were already making a feast out of the body's flesh. The bloody puddle that once pooled around the body had dried twice over. And now the corpse's hair was sticking to the floor because of it. 

Cully looked up, "See, she agrees with me." The girl turned to the boy vampire only to give him a disgusted look. "What the hell are you wearing?"

Joshua stretched his arms out giving the girl the full view. He was rather proud of his new prize. "I found it in this bastard's closet. The rest of the stuff is tweed and Gap. However, this baby was buried way in the back. I think this guy is a leather daddy."

"Get out of that. You look like a reject from 'The Village People'."

The vampire wanted to protest but when Cully cocked the gun at him he knew it was best to follow her orders. Sure bullets wouldn't kill him but they'd still hurt like hell. And also the jacket would probably become ruined in Cully's little spat. All hole laced and bloody. Either way Joshua knew he was going to lose. So he opted for the less painful approach. 

He slipped out of the jacket. Cully returned to pointing the gun at the front door. A moment later Joshua returned with a small box in his hands. "Look here," he said as he carefully lifted the lid. A small twinge of pain fell over him as he stared at the object. 

Cully looked inside with much curiosity. A second later she nearly fell off her chair trying to get away from it. "What are you mad?"

Joshua looked down into the box until his eyes could stand it no longer. He shut the lid. "It's just a rosary. This guy is Catholic. How do you think that came about? I thought English Catholics were extinct."

Cully wasn't listening. She waved the gun at the boy vampire again. "Put that away before you spill it onto your skin and burn yourself again. This bastard isn't going to burn you twice in one night."

The boy vampire shrugged. He swung his arm back and sent the box flying across the room. It smashed with a satisfying crash of broken wood and spilled beads. Joshua fingered the tie that was still around his neck. "Are we going to wait until sunup? I don't think Ingles can cover us for this one if the cops find us in here. Cully?"

"FUCK!" the girl finally screamed as she stomped her feet and pounded the air around her with her tiny fists. She leaped up and kicked the chair out into the hallway. The piece of furniture sailed across the floor and hit the back wall with a glorious, messy sound. With a heavy steel-toed boot she kicked Granny's corpse. The head broke off like the cap of mushroom off its stem. The head rolled until it hit the miniature couch in the living room. The face was looking up at the ceiling with mouth and eyes still frozen in the shocked expression that had been painted there the moment Cully took her life. "He isn't coming is he?" Her voice was low and almost thick, like that of a woman rather than the child's body she was trapped in. "WHERE THE HELL IS HE?!"

Joshua was not sure how to reply to this. "Like I said, he's isn't coming. Look, there's always tomorrow. Cully, _sire,_ we're playing on thin ice. I can feel in it. We should leave before we are exposed." He nudged the headless corpse with a dirty boot. "He'll know now that we're looking for him."

"I don't want to wait," the girl hissed as she pointed at the door with her gun. Her trigger finger was turning white knuckled as she fought the urge to unload all her bullets right then and there. Her body began to tremble with a rage. She had murdered before, thousands of times over. But she never wanted a death so badly before in her endless life. Her nerves pulsed with an energy that wanted to explode out of every pore in her body. "I want him now. I want to kill."

"Grandma?" a voice called out from the hallway. The voice was weak but became stronger and stronger with ever plea. Whoever it was, was coming near.

Suddenly a stubby fingered hand curled around the entrance of the doorframe. "Granny, are you with Wesley again? Come to bed, please." A little girl followed the hand. She was the spitting image of the corpse on the floor. Down to the same pale, pink freckled covered skin. 

The sight of the apartment instantly rushed towards the girl as her mind tried to make sense of what was going on. She wasn't sure if the corpse was real or not. But it didn't matter. Her body tensed up as it geared to scream. 

Cully smiled and fired.

The bullet pierced the girl between the eyes. A blush of red spattered against the wall behind her. The girl's body dropped to her knees as her eyes stared up at the ceiling. Looking like she was saying her prayers at Mass, the frail body rocked for a moment before finally collapsing to the floor with a hollow sound. Blood began to pool. 

"You feel better now?" asked Joshua.

"Immensely."

_________________________________________________________________________________

Cully walked out of the apartment building licking the blood off of her fingers. She didn't think that leaving just the bodies behind was a strong enough statement for the vampire hunter. But she corrected that with a little effort. 

Joshua was right behind her, still wearing Wesley's tie and now his biker boots. Cully would not allow the vampire to keep the jacket but the boots were okay. Especially since they were steel toed and were ideal for kicking in shins. Violence in fashion always appealed to her nature. The male vampire was pleased that he had convinced Cully to go home. He was tired and yearned for another fix. The cigarette that was dangling between his pink lips was not cutting it. Throwing the cigarette down he grabbed the hand Cully was not cleaning up. The left one which was still bloody. Slowly he ran his tongue over her palm. The blood washed over his tongue and awoke his senses. A copper taste in the fluid was strong but there was a hint of sweetness to it. The vampire smiled as the flavor ran down his throat and raced through his system. _Better then any fag._ He licked Cully's hand again. 

The girl smiled and offered her other hand. "I think I missed a spot. Can you get it?"

Joshua hungrily obeyed. His tongue darted between her fingers picking up the stray red mess. 

The two of them continued with their flirting game as they walked further down the street. They were too busy with each other to notice the young drunk, who was just a block away, staggering up behind them. 

"Ohhhhhh, my head," moaned Wesley as he dragged himself up the stairs to the front entrance of the apartment building. "Christ, I will never drink again for as long as I live."

________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Angel parked the Plymouth right in front of the apartment complex. Gathering all the items that laid in the passenger's side, he made sure he had everything. _Spring water? Check. Amethysts? Check. Scroll of Dionysius? Check. _The ancient Greeks believed that if one had an amethyst on his person that one could not become drunk despite the amount of alcohol consumed. The Greeks were right and wrong. Amethysts do prevent drunkenness as well as wipe it clean from a contaminated body. But you needed the right spell to activate the power within the stone. Otherwise no matter how many purple colored rocks you had you were still going to become smashed face if you dared to drink one too many beers. 

But Angel had the spell. 

He sighed and prepared himself to meet the drunk Wesley faced to face. The vampire hoped that the young man was not the hugging type drunk. And still yet another part of his psyche cursed that he did not bring a camera. This was great material for blackmail. Fun and games blackmail, like old naked baby pictures to a hipper than thou teenager, but blackmail none the less. 

With things in tow, the vampire walked across the thresh hold of the building. The place was quiet. But he expected to be as much, after all it was way past three a.m. The elevator was out but that was much to be expected. The place was not the Ritz. Still it wasn't a dump either. But troubles such as that were always happening. He knew about these things through Wesley's constant sighs about his, _"bloody awful flat."_

At least the stairs were in one piece and it was only two flights up to the apartment. Angel began up them as he went over the spell in his head. Halfway up the stairwell he froze as a smell hit him. It was a harsh, stale, coppery smell like old filthy pennies. He knew that stench well. _Blood. Dried blood. _And the smell was thick.

A shiver ran through him and a horrible thought exploded in his mind.

"Wesley."

He dropped the items in his arms and ran as fast as he could. His voice bounced off the walls in a scared wail, "WESLEY! WES!" 

He ran into the second floor hallway with such speed he slammed against the wall. Pain rushed to his system. But his brain told him there was no time to wince. He raced down the hall almost tripping on his own feet. He came to the end were Wesley's flat was around the corner. "WESLEY! ANSWER ME, PLEASE!" Slowing down just a few feet before the corner almost afraid to go around it, he shook his head, "Don't be…just don't be." 

With fear pulsating through him like a drug he went around the corner.

A chair lied in the hallway on its side like a dead body. There was a splatter painting of crimson on the wall behind it. And there next to the piece of furniture, on his knees in a catatonic heap of flesh and bones was Wesley. 

He was still alive. Angel could see this by the slowly rising and falling of the young man's chest. And yet when Angel called out to him in a gentle manner then in a concerned manner and then in disgusted manner Wesley refused to answer. The young man just sat and stared into his flat. 

Angel stepped forward to see what the young man was staring at. The sight caused a knee jerk reaction in the vampire. He bent over as if to throw up but there was nothing in his belly to do so. A chain reaction of dry heaves followed instead. Not because of the sheer unspeakable blasphemy of the _sight,_ but because the vulgarity was something recognizable. He had seen this before. He had done this before. He had created such _things _when he was Angeleus. 

Angel pulled himself together and looked again. He wanted to make sure what he had seen had not been an illusion. It was not. 

There like a nightmare ripped from an insane surrealist's mind were two corpses. A mature headless adult and small girl. The girl was sitting in the larger corpse's lap with the adult's rigid arms holding her in place. The girl's tiny right hand had been propped up. Three fingers, her thumb, forefinger and index, were outstretched in the familiar representation of the Trinity. Her face had been forced into taking an almost serene expression like that of a holy figure in a painting. She looked content where she was despite the small jagged hole in her forehead. Her other hand held the broken remains of a rosary that had lost its power to give the vampire pain. 

There was something in the girl's lap. The object was barely visible because of the position the child was sitting in. Angel took a step into the room fearing the worse. He closed his eyes when the worse came.

It was the woman's head.

Another thick wave of nausea swept the vampire. He looked away only to see the rest of nightmare. Across the Wesley's cream colored walls were hand smeared threats written in blood. All of them echoed with the same message over and over. 

__

"YOU ARE DEAD."

Angel felt his body go numb. He turned to the young man behind him who was still on the floor and looked for a response from him.

But instead of yelling or whimpering like a frighten pup all Wesley could muster up was a weak, broken whisper.

"They're going to kill me."

END OF PART FIVE

   [1]: mailto:exit_12_@hotmail.com



	6. pure morning

Angel the series was created and is owned by the man behind the curtain, Joss Whedon.

Me? I'm hunched over my keyboard with a liter of Mountain Dew at my side and a cherry Blow Pop in my mouth. Sugar helps me think. And right now I feel like Einstein.

Woooooooohoooooo! 

A side note-To all those who have taken the time to review this series I want to say _thank you._ Also I just wanted to point out when I started this story line Cully and Joshua were not supposed to be this evil. Childlike in their stupidity? Yes. Evil on two legs? No. They have just become this way. _And it isn't going to stop. _(Cue creepy organ music.)

SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

(Part Six)

by Lamech

Cordelia rubbed her eyes as she climbed out of the cab. She wanted to crawl back into the car and head straight back home but she knew she couldn't do so. Not at least with Anna climbing out right behind her. Still her body was screaming for sleep. This was the first time in a long time that the girl went without at least six hours of sleep. 

No, instead I was only able to steal two hours twenty three minutes and fifty-four seconds of shuteye. She had counted the time down to the second just so she could whine to Angel and Wesley. If she had to suffer so must they.

Anna had kept her up most of the night with her uncontrollable sobbing fits. The moments of still silence where Anna would calm down were filled with stories about her late husband. What he was like. _The most charming man you will ever have the pleasure to meet._ How they met. _Through a mutual friend. An artist no less. _His habits. _He would surprise me every third Tuesday of the month with a bouquet of flowers. Sometimes roses. Sometimes tulips. What ever was in season at the time. _How Wesley reminded her so much of him. _Same dark hair and light eyes. But Peter had a crooked smile that made him look like he was always about to laugh at something or another._

Cordelia would just sit and smile through those moments. And every so often she would throw in an, "Uh-huh" and "I understand." But in reality her mind was running on empty and all she could think of was "_Blah. Blah. Blah. Sleep already!"_

She didn't mean to be so tactless even in her own thoughts. But she had been mentally and physically trained to the point of passing out. Still her better nature made her remain awake and take care of the woman. 

__

Angel would have been so impressed with me. Probably would have given me a gold star of something. The notion of this made Cordelia giggle despite herself. Realizing what she had done and the stupidity of the previous thought she hung her head and sighed. She needed a vacation and she needed it now. 

"Do you think they'll be there? It is so early in the morning." Anna said.

Cordelia snapped her head up. _Reality check_. She looked at the brown brick building in front of her and narrowed her eyes. "Better be." 

_______________________________________________________________________________ 

For some reason the office corridor did not feel the same as the day before. Cordelia thought the air tasted stale and it crawled around in her lungs. Also there was a funny smell to the whole place. She couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe it was just that the air conditioning had not been turned on yet. Maybe.

Something else was telling the girl there was a darker reason to why there was a difference. But she did not want to know why. If ignorance was bliss then she wanted to be the village idiot. Every since Doyle had given her his _gift_ her female intuition had grown by leaps and bounds. Before hand she could only get faintest _creep vibes_ from guys. Now vampires that were trying to pass themselves off as human were finding it impossible to fool her. She could see the wolf beneath the coat of wool. 

And now something was telling her that something was wrong. Very wrong. 

She pulled Anna behind her as she approached the entrance door. The shade behind the door's window had been pulled down and the "Sorry, we're closed" sign was still up. It was like Angel had not bother to open shop. 

Cordelia closed her eyes and hoped that this was so because Angel had over slept. And if this was so the vampire was in for the ear thrashing of his undead life. How dare he sleep when she was being forced to play _Mother _Confessor against her will.

Anna grabbed the back of the girl's shirt and whispered something in Hungarian. It could have been a prayer for all Cordelia knew. But then again the whisper was probably more along the lines of, _damn, here we go again._

Cordelia took hold of the door handle and turned. The lock clicked and shifted open. In that moment the girl wondered how she should approach this. Should she peek in to see if the coast was clear? Or should she throw open the door and charge in there like a grunt on Omaha beach? 

__

Well, considering that outside a pitiful cross that I have in my back pocket I have no weapons to speak of and I do lack a certain amount of upper body strength that would give me a decent right hook. I think I'll sneak. 

The door creaked like old bones as it gently moved forward. There was just enough space for her to look at her desk. The lights were still off and the back window shades were still drawn. But bright sunlight that made the flimsy linen fabric of the shades glow lit a simple illumination throughout the room. She opened her eyes wider her trying to make her sight clearer. A familiar bulky shape was sitting at her desk and in her chair. The details had been lost in the dim light of the office but Cordelia knew that person anywhere. And right now that body at her desk was barely awake. He was half hunched over with his right arm propped up and the other hand wrapped around something. A pile of papers rested between the two. He looked like he was trying to sleep and work at the same time. But sleep had won. 

A wicked smile grew across the girl's face. Her fear and anger had turned into mischievous glee. Suddenly she threw open the door so hard it slammed into the wall behind it. The crash bounced off the walls like an echo. 

"AH-HAH!" Cordelia yelled as she leaped into the room and pointed an accusatory finger at the vampire. "I've got you!"

Angel's body jerked to his feet in a violent motion. His left hand swung out in front of him bringing the object that was being held into the light. A gun. A loaded gun. The first bullet roared past the girl's ears and lodged itself in the wall behind her. 

Cordelia screamed and slammed down on the floor. Anna did the same. 

The second bullet flew above them and made its home just a few feet away from its sibling. Then the sound of metal dropping followed. 

"Cordelia? CORDELIA!" Angel yelled, as he shook free from the veil of sleep that rested over him. He ran to the girl's side and pulled her up. His face was a mess of worry and guilt. "I-I didn't mean to. I th-thought you were….. did I get you?" 

The shock made Cordelia shove Angel away with a strength she didn't knew she had. He fell to floor and lied like there like a turtle on his back. One of Cordelia's clogs made its home on Angel's chest. The girl placed her weight on the vampire making sure he was not going anywhere fast. Scared brown eyes glared down at Angel. "JUST WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!?"

Angel didn't bother to struggle free from under his prison. He knew he deserved this. With a deep expression of remorse shifting over his face he answered, "Wooden bullets."

"Wooden bullets?" Cordelia had yet to budge.

"Yes, wood from Ash." He looked over at Anna who stood a healthy ten feet away from the vampire. She looked terrified. The vampire didn't blame her. 

Cordelia leaned in. The clog sunk deeper in Angel's chest. "And why the hell were you firing at us?"

"I thought you were someone else."

"And who were you going to fire at then? I know the mailman is late from time to time but, sheesh, can we say harsh factor here?" Realizing that Angel had regained his sanity Cordelia got off of him and stuck out her hand in help. He took it and climbed to his feet.

A big gray clog print stained his black shirt. Looking at his shirt, then at the girl he sighed and wiped off the dirt. He then motioned for Anna to come in and for the two women to sit down. They obeyed. Setting his gun back down on Cordelia's desk he began.

"Last night," he paused not sure how to go on. Should he say suspect? Well, after what he had done the vampire from last night wasn't a suspect any longer. Angel carried on. "Last night the vampire from the attack somehow got the permission from Wes's landlady to enter his apartment. Then the vampire decapitated the woman and murdered her grandchild."

"Oh, God, Wesley!" Cordelia interrupted as she rose to her feet in shock. Her eyes were already watering.

Taking the girl by the shoulder Angel tried to calm the girl down. "He wasn't there at the time. But the vampire made sure that Wesley understood his message. He left the bodies behind for Wesley to discover and had painted the walls with threats of murder." 

Cordelia bit her bottom lip in worry, "Then Wes is okay?" 

Rubbing the back of his neck Angel shrugged his shoulders. "Physically, yes. But mentally?" He sighed, "He and I have been talking to the cops all morning. In fact they just left about an hour ago."

Anna leaned in with her hands clutched to her chest, "And where is Wesley now?" Her voice betrayed her deep concern. She was just as worried as Cordelia.

Angel pointed behind him. His movement was sluggish and clumsy. His nerves were shot. "He's asleep in my bed."

"He went through all that and he could still fall asleep?" gasped Cordelia. She laughed in disbelief, "Well, eat your heart out Rip Van Winkle."

The vampire rolled his eyes at the girl's crack. "I gave him a Valium for his nerves."

"Wow, you have Valium?"

Angel sighed again, "Yes, Cordelia, I have Valium. I also have powdered Ogre livers, jellied hydra skin, pickled pooka eyes, canned troll bile, demon saliva in pill form and an assortment of other occult medicine goods that the FDA doesn't even know exist."

"Guy, when you put it that way." The girl's voice trailed off when she watched Angel snatch an armload of papers of her desk. 

"Come with me," he said as he walked out of the office.

Cordelia stood up and looked towards the elevator. "Wait, we're leaving? What about Wesley? Are we just going to leaving him behind?"

The look that Angel gave to her told her the absolute stupidity of her question. His glare was harsh and unforgiving. "No, we are never going to leave him behind." 

Cordelia shut up and followed Angel out into the hallway. Last time she had seen Angel that ticked about being asked anything was when Faith came to town and Wes and him had that argument about her. Cordelia did not like that look then and she didn't like it now. Dead Serious Angel scared her.

"Here," Angel said as he shoved the papers into the girl's hands, "I want you to sign at the bottom of every sheet."

The girl flipped over the papers and began to read. Small print filled every inch of the paper with words that were flying over her head. After a few seconds of reading it she blinked as a headache began to form in her skull. She gave up on trying to figure it out by herself. Instead she shook the papers in Angel's face. "What is this anyway?"

"Legal forms."

"Duh. I mean, what type of legal forms are they?"

Angel shoved the papers back in the girl's direction. He didn't have time for this. "You sign while I tell you." The girl smiled and began to write. "Those papers give you sole ownership of the office. And you in turn you declare this site a private residence. The business is closed for the time being and the welcome mat is no longer out."

The girl signed the final dotted line. She shrugged, "And that's going to help us how?"

Walking back towards the entrance Angel commented, "I'll show you. If this works it is going to make keeping Wesley safe just a bit more easier." He stood at the doorway and placed his hand up. Slowly he pushed forward only to stop after a few seconds. His other hand followed and laid flat against the other one. To Cordelia Angel looked like he was showing off his miming skills. She didn't understand what was going on until Angel leaned forward until he looked like he was about to topple over. But he didn't. He stood there leaning at an impossible angle as if he was resting against an invisible wall.

Cordelia jumped for joy, "I get it. Since you're no longer the owner and it is now my private property you can't get in unless I invite you. And neither can the other vampire!" She clapped her hands together at Angel's ingenious idea. "This is so perfect. You really are good at this."

Angel smiled. It was the first time all morning he had done so. "Thank you." 

Cordelia returned his smile, "So, you are now the only invited vampire to the office? Great. " 

At that moment Angel fell in. He hit the floor hard and a second later moaned an "ow". 

Running to his side Cordelia asked what had just happened.

"You invited me in. You said that I was the only invited vampire."

"And that did it?" The girl rolled her eyes and groaned, "Who writes the rules to these things?!"

Suddenly Anna coughed. 

In all the mess Cordelia and Angel had forgotten about her. Angel winced as he realized that Anna had just witnessed the whole invite scene. His secret was out. And surprisingly Anna was handling it well. Which only confused the vampire.

"She knows," Cordelia answered the puzzled look on the vampire's face. "She guessed that you were a vampire last night."

Angel climbed to his feet and dusted his clothing off. The still reaction that Anna was giving was still unnerving him. "And you have no problem with this?"

It was Cordelia who answered before Anna could even get a word in edgewise, "Oh, I wouldn't say that." What she could say was an hour-long dialog about the whimpering cry fest the woman had put her through. But the fight was no longer in Cordelia. "Anna just feels that in order to get the vampire another vampire would make the best hunter. You know, fire with fire."

"Don't get me wrong, vampire," Anna said in a low voice as she rose to her feet. The look from her eyes was intense as she approached Angel. "I loathe your kind with every breath. But I am smart enough to know that fighting alone in this case will cost me a great deal." She motioned towards Cordelia, "She has been telling me all these stories about you helping people. And what you just did for Wes proves to me that you haven't just manipulated her. You are good." 

Angel remained still. He had a thousand comments running through his mind but he thought silence was the best answer. The two of them stood locked eye to eye. It was Angel who cracked by turning away with a tired sigh. 

"I am going to talk to a lead. I want Wes to stay here when he wakes up, Cordy," Angel said as he picked up the gun again and placed it in a holster that hugged around his chest.

"He isn't going to like that," the girl said as she took a seat at the edge of her desk. "He's going to want to go all gung-ho."

"Well, too bad. He stays put." He went over to the file cabinet and opened the top drawer. Pulling out a small crossbow he added, "He's not in the best frame of mind to fight."

"And you are?!"

Angel gave her a confused look.

"Look at you, Angel," the girl said as Angel slammed the cabinet file shut. The noise made her shiver. "You are walking around like a bull in a china shop. You don't just have bags under your eyes, you have a whole luggage set." She paused with a smile and hummed, "I didn't know vampires could get bags. Anyway, I mean, look at the wall. We now have two bullets lodged there. You know there goes our deposit on the place."

Angel shook his head trying to ignore the girl. But Cordelia was not about to stop. She grabbed the vampire by the arm. "Please, you are wreck."

"I have to find the vampire before…" His voice was soft and low like a whimper. He lowered his head to hide the fear and sadness in his eyes.

Cordelia leaned in. "Before what, Angel?"

"Wes…"

"Wes?" The girl released her grasp. "Is this what you are worried about? Geez, you weren't like this with Buffy even at her worst moments."

Angel glared at the girl for even bringing up _her _name. A sharp sliver of ice felt like it had struck his spine. "Buffy can handle a three hundred pound Cragis demon with her hands behind her back. She's even stronger and faster than I am. And besides that is her destiny. She knows it and I know it. However Wesley could be off working some pencil pusher job and be good at it. But he didn't. He is right here beside me battling things that want to murder him." He added with a whisper, "And I worry about the same thing with you when ever we go into a fight. I hide it but it's true."

With a softness that barely showed itself, the girl's hands took Angel by the face. "Angel," she whispered.

The vampire melted in her gentle touch. He fought back the tears that wanted to come out. Finally he said what had been eating at his soul all night. "I don't want another Doyle."

"You still are comparing me to a dead man?" hissed a hoarse voice.

Angel and Cordelia looked towards the voice. Wesley stood propped up against the Angel's office door. His eyes were half-closed and glassy. The Valium was still swimming around in his system. The drug was giving him a feeling of cocky bravery that an hour ago had not been there. Dressed in a pair of Angel's pants and one of his shirts, Cordelia could not recall a time where Wesley had looked to so skinny and frail. He looked like a good strong breeze could have knocked him over. However the look on his face warned everyone not to mess with him. He was in the mood to fight.

"Wesley," Angel whispered.

"Wesley!" chimed Cordelia. "How are you? You should be out cold."

"I was. Best hour long coma of my life," he said in a slurred accent. 

He was being flippant. Angel couldn't figure out if that was the drug talking or really Wesley. This smart mouth trait of his had reared its ugly head once before when Angel had told Wesley that he couldn't perform an exorcism because the rite may cost him his life. The young man answered this by burning Angel with a cross on purpose. This was not the time or the place for this sort of attitude. 

"Don't start, Wesley," Angel said as he glared at the man. "Go back to bed and sleep the drug off."

"No."

"Wesley!"

"Do you think you are my father?" The young man walked forward using anything that was solid enough to take his weight as a crutch. He looked awkward on his feet. He felt the same. Still a twinge of disgust was starting to build in him, "You think you can tell me what to do?"

Angel nodded his head, "Yes, I'm your boss."

"Then I quit."

Angel's mouth fell open in shock much to the amusement of Wesley.

"You threaten me with that once before, Angel." He stumbled up to the vampire and sniffed the air. His mouth curled up in to a drunken smile. "I fell for that then but I won't now. I'll do what I want to do. And you can't stop me."

Suddenly Angel leaned back and sent a right hook flying across the young man's jaw. Wesley's body twisted around from the force. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Out cold with one good punch. Angel winced and shook his fist. Wesley was hard headed in more ways than one. The vampire turned to Cordelia, "When he wakes the drug should be out of his system. Hopefully he'll be in his right mind again. Tell him to sit tight. The cops said they might be calling here again."

Cordelia nodded as she picked up the young man by the shoulders. Groaning as she went along she dragged Wesley back towards the elevator. "How can someone be so bony and be so heavy at the same time?"

Angel grabbed a slip of paper with an address on it and stuffed it into his trouser pocket. 

He turned to Anna who stood there in shock. She shook it off when Angel came up to here.

"You said you want to kill this monster yourself?" He said as loaded the crossbow in his hands. "Have you ever killed a vampire before?"

Anna nodded. "Yes, two in Ireland and three in Hungary. Four of them by stake and one by beheading."

"Then you know how to handle yourself. Good." He handed the crossbow to the woman only for her to refuse it. 

She grabbed her purse and dug into it. Pulling out a small crossbow she smiled, "I came prepared."

END OF PART SIX


	7. somebody hates you....

Angel the series was created and is owned by that big honcho Joss Whedon. I'm just traveling around the galaxy in Bebop. Hey, Ed, get away from there. No, don't press that button! That'll give me an electric shoc… bbbbbbbbbbzzzzzzzzzzzzztttttttttttt. (Collapses with X's over her eyes.) 

SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL

(part seven) 

by Lamech

Angel hated traveling through the sewer systems. The act only reminded him of what he was and that he could not walk in the full brightness of day. That was unless he wanted to be consumed by sunlight. 

Walking with Anna made it even worse. Despite all he had witnessed. Despite the literal and proverbial writings on the wall. Despite what his colleagues thought. He did not trust the woman. He could not put his finger on it but there was something corrupt about the woman. She drew out from him a feeling of paranoia that itched the back of his brain. He fought the urge to grab her and shove her against the wall demanding that she tell him the truth. But he wondered _what purpose would that serve? What if I am wrong? What if it is not her but me who is bringing these feelings on?_

The vampire glanced over at the woman who was covering up her nose with one hand and sporting a flashlight with the other. _Maybe it is me? Maybe I feel this way because Anna brings up feelings of my past. I remember Hungary. I remember that dark time where I had no soul. And Darla and me would…_Visions of Darla dancing in a white cotton dress, a dress she had picked from the body of a child who was barely in the age of womanhood flashed across his mind. 

"She was so young, Angelus," whispered Darla as she came up from behind the vampire. Her tongue drew a circle at the nape of his neck. He shivered from the coldness of her flesh; "She was rushing to mass. So late. So late. I couldn't help myself."

Angelus stared down at the remains of the girl-woman that Darla had brought home. 

He smiled, "You can never help yourself, my love."

The woman vampire giggled softly and purred in the man's ear, "She was so sweet and pure like cane sugar. But look at her now. She looks so alone. Do you know what she needs?"

Angelus shook his head as Drama began to trace a trail down his throat with her mouth. She stood before him and giggled again like a child, "She needs a companion." 

The male vampire liked the idea, "Yes, a groom perhaps?"

"Angel."

"A groom! That is it exactly! We should have a wedding!"

"Angel!"

__

"Let us go now, Angelus, my darling, and find her groom. Someone as sweet. And they will have a church wedding!"

"Dammit. ANGEL!"

The vampire shook in his skin as the vision broke free and vanished. He blinked and for a second questioned where he was. Then the smell slapped him across the face. _Oh, yeah. Now I remember where I am. Great._

"Are you okay?" Anna said as she pointed the flashlight in Angel's direction. "You were out of it for a moment."

Squinting Angel nodded. "Yeah. I am okay." 

"I think we are here." She motioned in front of her. There just about thirty feet away were a tunnel should have been was a club. The front of the underground building was cement and metal lined betraying its sewer roots. But the neon lights glowing with triple X's and the promise of hard liquor and easy women, (human women? Angel never could tell) reeked of a cheapness that could only come from a third rate bar. Music from a cover band wafted down the tunnel. A poorly played version of some Dick Dale tune hissed in Angel's ears. If he could he would have done an about face then and there. But Anna grabbed the vampire by the edge of his jacket and demanded that he come along.

Angel closed his eyes and thought of Wesley. In voice low enough that Anna could not hear he whispered, "You're the real reason I'm doing this. I hope you realize this."

_____________________________________________________________________

At that moment Wesley sneezed and felt his right ear burn. He groaned. And on top of all the miseries that were bombarding him was illness having a go at him as well? He grimaced as he pulled himself up and rested against Angel's headboard.

His head began to scream in pain. _Ahh, there you are. My little piece of hell wouldn't be complete without you, hangover. _ Happily he found a glass of water and two aspirin waiting for him on an end table next to the bed. _No doubt laid out by Angel,_ he thought as he swallowed them. His jaw popped as he closed his mouth. It caused a shock of pain to race through his body. And though the young man could not recall every detail that lead up to Angel's upset he remember what Angel had did to him. 

Angel had punched him. And he had every right to. At least that's what Wesley believed. He had been drunk before with similar results. _I bet_ _I was an ass. _ He corrected himself._ No, I am an ass. _He pulled at his oversized clothing realizing it was Angel's. A horrible thought raced through his mind. _Angel must have undressed me out of my soiled clothing. I know for a fact I was too much in shock to do it myself. That means he…saw me…_He shook his head not believing it for a moment until he checked his pants. _Those aren't my boxers._ He felt his entire body became warm and red and slumped back down in bed. _Oh, Christ._ His closed his eyes and wished Angel was there so that he could knock him out again. 

"Well, hello, sleeping beauty," snorted Cordelia as she wandered into the room. A try of toast and jam was loaded in her arms. She settled the tray on the foot of the bed. "So, are you sober or you still Mr. Sloshed Faced?"

"Mister what?" Wesley murmured as he moved foreword. The room began to spin like a whirlpool. The young man winced as he covered his eyes hoping to shock out the pain. It did not work. In low whisper he hissed, "My head is killing me."

"Ah, back to the not so lemony fresh reality, I see. Good." She took a seat next to the man on the bed. "Now, there was something I was supposed to do when you awoke," Cordelia said as she began to tap her temple with a serious look on her face. She looked at the young man with narrowed eyes, "Now I remember." With a swift swing of her hand she smacked Wesley upside the head. The man jerked away feeling the smart sting of the girl's action.

"What was that for?" he hissed.

"For acting like such an jerk this morning," she hissed back. "You had Angel and I worried, and even think Anna was worried about you too. And instead of staying put like Angel asked you to, you told him to pretty much piss off. That you were going to do what you wanted to do."

Wesley's eyes went big. He didn't remember that. All he could remember was that he said something to provoke Angel's anger and the next moment he was down on the floor. He buried his head in his shaking hands. "What exactly did I say?" He wanted to know everything. 

The girl was happy to obey. She crossed her legs and leaned back on the bed. "Well, you wanted to go find the vampire. Angel said no that you were still in shock not to mention you were in La La Valiumland. But you still insisted. And you were pretty rude about it. You said Angel wouldn't let you go because he was afraid that what happened to Doyle could happen to you. And you said for him to stop comparing you to a dead man."

"I DID NOT!" Wesley shouted as he could feel his body becoming red again. 

"You did. And that's when Angel said pretty much go back to bed or else you would be fired." She paused and glanced over to Wesley. He looked like he was about to fall foreword with the way he was hanging on her every word.

"AND?!" the man shouted again.

"And you said, "I quit." And that's when Angel punched you." She looked over to tray and picked up a plate full of food. With a smile she turned to Wesley, "Toast?"

He mumbled that he was not hungry. A sharp stomach growl argued that fact. Still Wesley refused the food. In the state he was in if he dared to swallow even the smallest of morsel his nerves would only make him throw it back up. He looked at the glass of water in his hands as Cordelia munched on a slice of toast with strawberry jam. She was never one to let food go to waste. Especially with what Angel was paying her, he owed her some free food. Silence drowned the room.

The girl stared off in the distance refusing to leave Wesley's side. Even if she hated to admit it she wanted to make sure that Wesley safe. She cared for him deeply. More so than the man realized. And if that meant she had to do the mother bear thing and sit by his side until he fell back to sleep so be it. Besides the phone lines were quiet and Angel's television was a lousy twelve-inch box. No cable and the VCR looked practically ancient. Knowing Angel it probably was. There was nothing better for her to do. She threw a glance over the young man whom still had his hands covering his face like a mask of embarrassment. He looked so helpless. She remembered Xander looking like that whenever Buffy was off doing some slaying and he was left behind for his safety. Cordelia remembered that she could not find the words to comfort Xander in his time of bruised ego. And now was no different. She chumped on her toast. 

__

Except that you would make kissy face to distract him from his uselessness. She thought of the kisses her and Wesley shared. That time seemed so far away as if it had never really happened. A fairy tale scene that never existed. She closed her eyes and wondered if she could bring herself to kiss Wesley in order to comfort him. She shoved the last remaining bit of toast into her mouth.

"Cordelia."

The girl shivered in shock and almost choked on her toast. She looked at the boy with puffed out cheeks full of toast. She looked like a hamster with her cheeks stuffed with food pellets.

Wesley raised his brows. Any other time he would have been laughing until tears streamed down his face. But now he could not find the right feelings in him to do so. His sad eyes glanced away from the girl's face. He drew his legs close like a scared child. "Cordelia, am I coward?"

Cordelia answered this with a fit of choking. She grabbed the glass of water from Wesley's hands and swigged it down. At that moment the phone screamed and Cordelia disappeared out of the room to answer it. 

Wesley stared off in the distance with a scowl. _She did not answer me because she doesn't want to hurt my feelings. _He stumbled off the bed and headed towards the door. _Cordelia, you fool, don't you know? My ego has been bruised so much already your simple words could not possibly do any more damage. _

_____________________________________________________________________________________ 

Detective Ingles surveyed the damage over Wesley's apartment. Even with what seemed like an endless parade of cops roaming about the room, covering up and tagging up evidence, it hard to ignore the horror that was the murder site. He swore that if he ever found Cully he was going to ram a stake through her heart. And if that didn't kill her then he was going to give her a Holy Water bath. She was only supposed to kill the schmuck that messed with her. Not this. _A kid and old lady done up like an Icon. You are one sick monster, Cully. And I hope this schmuck you're after slices your head off._

A female detective walked up besides him and looked around. She pushed her blond hair away from her face and fingered the cross around her neck. The expression on her face unnerved Ingles. It was calm and docile like a Buddah statue, like she understood what was going on. She knew what the killer was and why she had done so.

"Detective Lockley," a young cop ran up to the woman with a clipboard in hand, "I need for you to sign this."

__

Lockely, Ingles thought, _The nutcase cop who is addicted to the occult? Jesus, if she knows about Cully and her kind… W-what if she can trace this murder back to me? But who is going to believe a vampire? Oh, God, what have I gotten myself into?_

_______________________________________________________________________________ 

Cordelia picked up the phone; "Angel Invest-" she stopped in mid sentence remembering that the Investigations was kaput. This was now her place. She stumbled over her words for a moment and finally settled on, "It's your quarter, speak."

The voice on the other end was soft and childlike. "Is this Angel Investigations?" 

Cordelia began to curl the phone cord around her finger, "It was. Put right now it's under a new owner and it is currently a private residence."

"Oh," the voice whispered softly as if it was breaking into tears.

Cordelia stared into the receiver; "Can I help you, anyway?" Her voice was soft and concerned. 

"My mom a few days ago was at your office," the voice whispered softly. There was an echo in the background as if she was either talking in a bathroom or an open loft. "She left a bag there. At least she thinks she did. May I come over after school and see if it is still there?"

"Are you Mrs. Madigan's kid?" the young woman asked as she began to look around the office for the bag the child spoke about.

There was a pause. "Yes." Another pause, "May I come over?"

Cordelia crawled under her desk. No bag. "Hey, your mom talked a lot about you. She showed me pictures and everything. How old are you, again?"

"Eleven."

"Funny," Cordelia said as she sat up. She banged her head against the desk and winced. Her thoughts composed themselves quickly, "I thought your mom said you were thirteen."

The voice on the other end sighed deeply. "She was wrong. She is a little eccentric like that."

Cordelia paused for a moment; "She didn't strike me that way. She seemed up and up."

"You don't know my mother. So, may I come over to the office and look inside?"

"Well, I don't see it. Are you sure she left it here?"

"She said she did," The voice skipped a beat. Cordelia could hear some whispering in the background. "It was a really small bag. It had a locket in it. A gold one from my grandfather. It's an heirloom. I know I could find it if I was just allowed to come over and check."

Suddenly something awoke in Cordelia's brain. _Allowed to come over._ The air escaped from her lungs in a quick gasp as she fell against the couch. "You're not Mrs. Madigan's kid, are you?"

The voice paused and let out a quiver. Then it piped right back up in a higher pitch, "What do you mean? I am her daughter."

"Then what is your name?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your name," Cordelia repeated in a deadpan voice. "What is your name?"

The voice on the other end remained dead. 

"You're the vampire," Cordelia whispered as she grasped the receiver with both hands to her ear. She was trembling so much that holding the phone as such was the only thing preventing it from popping out of her hands. She swallowed the spit in her mouth and spoke. "I thought you were supposed to be male."

"Your friend hurt my boy," the voice on the other end hissed in a tone that was both young and old. "He burned my boy's face with Holy Water. Do you know what that is like? To be burned like that?" The voice paused but did not wait for an answer; "Wesley is going to find out."

Cordelia's body tensed up as her blood began to boil. "You stay away from Wesley." Suddenly she felt her body being pushed back and the receiver leaving her hands. Her eyes snapped up to see Wesley bringing the phone to his ear.

"Who is this?" he demanded in his thick accent.

The voice on the other end smiled when she heard the British clip. Her own accent dipped as she spoke, "If it isn't the man of the hour. I was just telling your girlfriend how you hurt my child. And once I get my hands on you-"

"You won't even get a chance," Wesley hissed back. His body began to shake but his voice remained as still as death. "I know what you are. I know your weaknesses. And I know how to kill you. " He closed his eyes and allowed his anger to slip out, "And I will do it." He slammed the receiver back onto the phone. He looked over at Cordelia who was still sitting on the couch with a frighten, lost lamb look on her face. He wondered if that was how he looked like when Angel found him last night. Shaking his head he started to head back towards Angel's apartment. 

Cordelia rose to her feet, "Wes?" she went after him, "What are you doing?"

The man walked into the elevator and swung the door close. Cordelia managed to slip in before almost being pinned to the door. She grabbed at the young man's sleeve only for him to shrug her off. "Wes, speak to me."

The elevator stopped at the basement floor. The lift's door swung open. Wesley stormed out and raced up to Angel's weapon cabinet. There was a lock on it. No doubt done by Angel to prevent the young man from doing anything foolish like going after the vampire by himself. Wesley stared down at his barefeet and growled. Closing his eyes, he began to kick at the door. Cordelia screamed for him to stop. That not only was this insane and that he was going to mess up his feet but that cabinet was probably an antique. Still the door broke under the young man's eighth kick. He pulled away at the hinges and withdrew a battleaxe. 

He sized it up in his hands. It was a nice weapon but not enough. He dove back into the cabinet and took out a smaller battleaxe and swung it around testing the weight. 

"Wes, don't do this!" Cordelia yelled as she waved her arms. She looked around the room for something heavy to slam the young man over the head with. Maybe he would pass out and then she could tie him up. But there was nothing except for the few pillows on the bed. And what was she going to do then? Fluff Wesley to death? She turned back to the man who was now cocking a gun with wooden bullets. "Wes, please. You shouldn't go after the vampire by yourself."

The man froze for a moment and then smiled, "Fine then. Come with me."

"Are you nuts? We'll both be killed!"

The young man shrugged his shoulders and headed towards Angel's closet. He opened the doors and pulled a small shirt that would fit him better then the tent he had on. He peeled out of his clothing, which made Cordelia blush. She swirled around. "Angel is going to have such a fit. First his cabinet and now his good clothes."

"Can't do much about that," Wesley whispered as he slipped a belt around his waist, "My old clothes are all bloody. No time for the dry cleaners now." He smoothed out his shirt and put his weapons on. 

"Wes, come on. Please, Angel is out there looking for the vampires. Let him do it."

"I don't need anyone looking over me like a nanny."

"But you don't know where they are!"

Wesley stopped and looked the girl in the eye. "No, but they know where I am. Which means they're near here. And if that means that I have to crawl into every crack and crevice this cesspool has to offer then so be it." With that he walked back into the elevator leaving Cordelia dazed. 

The ride up was a somber quiet one. The seconds stretched on as Wesley felt his heart sink. He had to do this. He knew it. He couldn't depend on Angel to bail him out always like a child. Still. Wesley wished he could have seen his home one more time before he went out into the streets. Just one more time to walk up and down London. One more time to drink in a proper pub until the morning sun greeted you on your way out the door. One more time to say goodbye to his family. Just one more time. 

He crossed himself in the way his Catholic mother taught him in secret. Away from the prying Protestant eyes of his father. 

The elevator door opened up. Wesley gasped to see Cordelia barely stood two feet away from him with a stake in one hand and a crossbow in the other. 

He found himself doing a stunned double take. His mouth broke out in a smile as a sliver of relief swept him. "You've decided to come?"

The girl groaned and then laughed at the whole absurdity of the situation. "Are you kidding?" She slipped the stake into her back pocket. "If I have a choice between staying here and trying to explain to Angel why I couldn't keep you put and us going to fight those vampires. I chose the less painful way and say let's go hunting."

The young man smiled softly. His eyes began to well up as the emotion of the scene overwhelmed him, "Thank you."

Cordelia groaned, "Aw, shut up and let's go." With a sly smile she then added, "And that's an order from your nanny."

END OF CHAPTER 7

__


End file.
